


Auguric Arithmancy

by Cysteine



Series: One Step Left EXTENDED CUT [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Hermione Granger, BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Cissamione, Dark Character, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), F/F, F/M, Goblin Rebellion, Hercissa, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Inferi, M/M, Marriage Law Challenge, Muggle Uprising, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 83,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cysteine/pseuds/Cysteine
Summary: An extended cut to One Step Left, told in five parts.---What would have happened if Dobby had flinched at Malfoy Manor and taken one step to the left, leaving Hermione behind to fend for herself and thus causing a terribly different outcome of the war?"You defeated my husband on his own land in a duel. Pureblood tradition states that you claim all that was his... including his wife."





	1. PROLOGUE: Augurs and Arithmancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue takes place in year 6 until midway through year 7.
> 
> ...and I got impatient and posted the first chapter for Boxing Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All new prologue to One Step Left.
> 
> Story entirely written in Third Person POV.
> 
> Nine Inch Nails song correlations have been adjusted and will be dropped in the chapter notes.

CROOKSHANKS

Crookshanks hated his old collar, not because of the constraint on his neck, but because it kept jingling with every step he took. Ever since the Old Man changed out his collar for this new one, Crooks enjoyed absolute stealth. He also realized that the humans could understand him better, and had to make an effort to say ‘meow’ to not raise suspicion.

“Good evening, Mister Crookshanks.” Albus greeted, seeing Hermione’s familiar sneak his way in through the window to get his regular turkey and cheese treat.

Crooks mewed in greeting, asking where Not-A-Cat was.

“Minerva doesn’t know you can communicate with us; I find it a prudent secret to keep so you can protect Hermione and her family. Other than myself, I would only trust Misses Figg, the Kneazle-lady, and Severus… the dark-robe man.”

Crookshanks made a sound of agreement as he licked his lips in thanks and used his paw to clean his face, asking about the ‘Dark Lord’ and the Fight to Come.

“Alas, I believe it is coming sooner than I had wanted; I’ve already subtly planted the thought into Hermione to hide her parents outside of this country, and for you go with them. My colleague Misses Figg and a number of squib… non-magic people who know about magic… have set up a community in Australia.” Albus got up from his desk and went towards his fireplace mantle and poured a bit of floo powder on the ground in front of the fire.

“Let me show you how to use this special powder…”

* * *

HERMIONE

Hermione’s foot tapped the floor in a frenetic pattern, eager to get her Arithmancy essay back from Professor Septima Vector. The sixth-year Griffindor had noticed similarities between Arithmantic theorems and Muggle Quantum Mechanic theorems, most notably Schrödinger’s assertion to the Many-worlds interpretation.

The NEWT level Arithmancy course was so small that all four houses were seated together, leaving Hermione as the only muggle-born in a class full of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and a lone Slytherin.

“Miss Parkinson, do try to stay awake in my class,” Professor Vector chided, “I know you Prefects have nightly patrols to do, but please try to get enough rest when you can so that you may pay attention in class.”

Hannah Abbott leaned over to whisper to Hermione. “Only because Malfoy’s forcing her to do all of his shifts.” She muttered darkly.

“Seventh Year students, I want you all to review the NEWT practice exams before you take the Ministry’s examination, and don’t forget to show your work all the way through. I know we can simply cast _Solvo_ to run the equations in class,  but you’ll have to work the numbers out on parchment to get officially accredited as an Arithmantic Augur by the Ministry.

“Sixth Year students,” Professor Vector flicks her wand, sending scrolls to various desks across the classroom, “I found your essays to be quite remarkable, and there’s some very top-notch theorems among you all. I look forward to you lot returning next year in order to test them out as a combined class effort. Dismissed.”

Hermione looked down at her essay, the grade “Outstanding” written delicately at the top, followed by a hastily-scribbled “see me after class”.

Hannah saw that and shrugged.

“Better you than me; last thing I want is to work with numbers all summer.”

As the class left, Hermione gathered her things and approached the teacher. Professor Vector saw that they were alone and sealed the classroom and put up some anti-eavesdropping wards.

“Um, Professor?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Miss Granger, your paper remarked on some… curious ideas.”

The Gryffindor Prefect felt only slightly reassured at that.

“Why the…” she gestures towards the door as Professor Vector removes another much thicker scroll from her desk.

“- _’I am convinced God does not play dice’ - Albert Einstein._ Yes, here it is. The last student who correlated Arithmancy with Muggle Quantum Physics was over 20 years ago, and I… I want you to have it.” Professor Vector seemed almost apprehensive as she handed it over.

Hermione took the scroll, surprised to hear a Muggle Physicist quoted at Hogwarts.

“Thank you, but why are you giving this to me?”

“Well, your equations are superb, eigenvalues are well-researched, but I think you’d do well to look into the Kochen–Specker theorem that refer to the hidden variable theories.”

Septima frowned wistfully at the scroll.

“I had so much hope for her too, using modern muggle mathematics to solve some of the hardest-to-resolve Arithmantic problems to ever exist, including the Grand Equation of Everything. I swear, had she not given it all up to be Pureblood housewife, she could have been an amazing Augur and predicted the next ten Ministers of Magic… or win millions in, admittedly, less than legal Quidditch bets.”

Hermione read the scroll and was shocked to see that the paper was written in 1971 and that the author was none other than Narcissa Black.

“Narcissa Malfoy wrote this?”

Professor Vector nodded sadly.

“Brilliant mind, bit of a rebel, too… refused to take the name of Malfoy until the wedding proper instead of as soon as the _betrothal dowry_ was paid…” Septima Vector’s lips pressed thin in regret. “She was on her way to being a great healer, and then she was essentially sold off to the Malfoys and they went right to work in altering her bloodline. _‘Malfoys breed true’_ , indeed.”

“Why are you giving me this, Professor?” Hermione asked, rolling out the parchment and cross-referencing the notations with interest.

“You don’t have to be an accredited Augur to know what’s about to happen in the Wizarding World.” She nodded to the parchment. “And she was the most _inspired_ student I ever taught that could predict events with decent certainty…”

Professor Vector sniffled as her eyes watered up.

“...Including the war, and how a certain Chosen One would stop all the killing.”

Hermione’s hands tightened around the scroll slightly.

“She predicted Harry Potter would stop Vol-”

Septima nodded, tears falling.

“The class sizes have been _unusually small_ for the past few years, almost an entire standard deviation…”

Hermione felt like she had been punched in the gut with that data.

“You mean Hogwarts is missing _a third_ of its normal population?”

Vector nodded.

“You Know Who is responsible for so much death, and I see the repercussions in every NEWT class I teach. You’re Harry Potter’s friend; please help him _preserve life_ this time.”

Hermione trembled as she thanked her professor for the essay, realizing that not for the first time, adults she put her trust in were asking her to help save the world. As she left the classroom, her Galleon grew warm in her pocket with a message from Harry.

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa’s fingers trembled as she applied dittany to her son’s wounds, grateful that The Dark Lord was ultimately _happy_ that Snape took charge and killed Albus Dumbledore for Draco.

Her son had been mercifully drugged unconscious with Dreamless Sleep so that he wouldn’t scratch at the sensation of his skin re-knitting itself together.

What The Dark Lord wasn’t happy about, was the _Unbreakable Vow_ that lead her friend Severus to have to do it.

_Bloody maniac didn’t even raise his wand at me,_ Cissy thought, eyes red with unshed tears, _because he knew hurting my son would torture me so much more._

These wounds were not the usual type that she'd treated as the impromptu healer for every Death Eater facing the Cruciatus Curse in her home. The cuts on her son's arms were deliberate and parallel, almost surgical in execution.

_Were unforgivable curses no longer enough for The Dark Lord anymore, to sate his need for violence? Did he need a_ **_literal_ ** _pound of flesh?_

“Cissy, I brought fresh dittany.” Severus whispered into the silent room. Narcissa nodded in thanks as he left it beside her.

“Severus… this can’t keep going on… my son…” Cissy shook, nearly broken as she had literally nobody else to support her.

“He is my godson; I will do all in my power to protect him. If Lucius-”

“Fuck Lucius!” Narcissa winced as The Compulsion slammed a cutting hex across her face; an old pain that she’d grown used to when she speaks ill of her husband. “It was a mistake to re-join his ranks; He is not the same man he was two decades ago.”

“Should we have run like Karkaroff did? You **_do_ **recall what happened to him.” Severus used his wand to instantly mend the cut on his friend’s face, vanishing the trail of blood that rolled down her cheek in place of the tears that wouldn’t fall.

Narcissa shuddered, dabbing fresh dittany on Draco’s torn flesh.

“We could hide better than he did! This can’t keep happening... I’m scared, Sev.”

Severus put a hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm her.

“Lucius is safest in Azkaban. Had The Dark Lord dueled and killed him here…”

Narcissa trembles even more at that, crying out loud at the idea of becoming Mrs. Tom Voldemort Riddle.

* * *

THANATOS

Thanatos checked her disillusionment charm despite the mask she wore, circling the Serpent's Den as they conspired to find and execute The Chosen One.

She sneered every time she hears Harry being called 'the Chosen One'. She was always in the shadows, ignored by everyone except her Mentor, the man who should be honored for… well, not heroism, but the next best thing.

The Slytherin rolled her eyes as _Undesirable Number One_ struggled to make even simple potions and to learn the same magic that she had to master years before.

_Potter would never have survived had he been sorted into Slytherin_ , she thought darkly.

He is supposed to be the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, yet he cannot even master Occulmency, _the only_ thing that saves her from weekly tea times with “Auntie Bella” and the multitude of tasks designed to prove loyalty.

But _Potter_ was supposed to be the hero, yet he’s only survived this long because of his friends. _He would have died had he been on the run alone all this time._ She **absolutely** wanted to take Harry Potter down a peg or two, make him wear a scar that didn’t get the whole of the Wizarding World to collectively sigh in admiration.

She shuddered as the Dark within her surged, wanting to lash out, wanting to destroy something beautiful… but she kept herself in control.

_Scorpion and the Frog… it may be my nature, but I am in control of my actions._

The Dark receded, and she silently thanked her Mentor, the only person who knew of her true allegiance in this war. She had worked utterly alone… until recently. The Slytherin tied her gauntlet on, spelled to be invisible and to serve as a stealth wand holster, and looked to the sky for her new companion.

This morning’s Quibbler had finally quit publishing that “Hero Potter” would come save them all, now parroting the same talking points as the _Daily Prophet._ Thanatos sighed at this reminder of her failure at protecting Luna on the Hogwarts Express.

“Heroes,” She scoffed into the night air. _Heroes do not exist, and Potter cannot save us._ At best, Headmaster Snape might minimize the casualties. Might.

The Headmaster informed her that Albus claimed that ‘love’ is what protected Harry, and would eventually be the thing that would undo The Dark Lord. Maybe it was her upbringing, or her witnessing Amycus Carrow use the Imperius Curse on Slytherin students accused of sympathizing with the mudbloods for the prurient pleasure of those who obtained the Dark Mark already, but love isn’t real. Love is a ruse, a Trojan Horse that only brings pain.

She knows that there is only one way to end this war as a tiny flash of green was seen through a window on the second floor, as she watched, disillusioned, standing behind the estate’s disused stables. It will be through blood, pain, and death.

Her companion shot upward like a rocket, moonlight caressing his wings as he left Yaxley’s mansion, spoils of war since the Death Eaters slaughtered the muggleborn family inside and made it a staging ground for the Snatchers.

Inside, the Snatchers could avail themselves of any and every vice; whether it be potions, opiates, or people. Through legilimency, the muggle prisoners in the “comfort rooms” and the fighting pits alike sought release through death.

_It’s going to take a lot of death_ , Thanatos thought as she completed the ward, sealing the occupants inside. The green flash triggered a chain reaction and engulfed the building with magical fire. She was relieved to see everything go according to plan... for once.

She knew that the various Snatcher Packs had begun experimenting with magical vinculums, binding their magics together similar to what the Death Eaters did in the Dark Revels of old.

_A dozen bottom-feeding Dark Wizard wanna-be’s fighting together would make one hell of a fist of it._

She raised her left arm for her companion to perch on the gauntlet as he preened his wing, satisfied with himself.

“Let’s get back to Hogwarts.” She held her wand steady as she re-cast the glamour to make him look like an ordinary run-of-the-mill Barn Owl.

Headmaster Snape’s true allegiance was protected as he was busy groveling and kissing The Dark Lord’s hem alongside every other Death Eater. This ‘accident’ would be chalked up to untrained rabble without adequate supervision. Scabior and Fenrir would have to start recruitment all over again.

Heroes were supposed to ‘do the right thing’ to save lives. She knew that she was no hero.

Pansy would do whatever it took to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prologue Pansy Parkinson: "Getting Smaller"


	2. Abandoned at Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we learn more about Arithmancy, Cissy's past, and how Bella changed.
> 
> NIN song correlations with characters at the end of the chapter.

HERMIONE

_No wand. No visibility. No hope._

The Golden Girl took stock of her current situation. It was as fucked as her short-term memory.

Hermione shivered in the cold, the recent skirmish leaving her shaky as she tried to piece together the recent events as they kept slipping just out of grasp inside her mind. She knew that trauma could disrupt memories more convincingly than a memory charm, but as she saw the ‘big picture’, she was certain that nobody had time to cast a memory charm.

She only knew that Dobby had come to the rescue, but failed.

_I can't blame him. He tried to save us all._

They all saw the knife coming straight for Dobby’s chest and the Freed Elf flinched in fear.

Whatever magic Dobby had to ‘pop’ in and out of Malfoy Manor had activated as Hermione grabbed his hand at the last second.

And as he took that extra movement to try and spare his own life, it all went wrong.

 _At least Dobby, Harry, and Ronald were safe,_ Hermione thought, _at the expense of leaving me behind, abandoned at Malfoy Manor._

A groaning of the pipes broke the Gryffindor girl’s concentration, hyper-focused on the cold and damp feeling of the dungeon she was locked in.

It didn’t smell like she expected, as if the prisoners were allowed regular restroom breaks.

 _And prescribed mandatory yard time,_ Hermione thought with a chuckle, realizing the stress and anxiety of imprisonment were taking a toll on her mind. She knew what to expect; no quick death, but rather slowly tortured until completely insane like the Longbottoms.

Soon her jail wouldn’t be the bars before her, but within her own mind. She might live without access to her intellect, only glimpsing into herself and wondering where the so-called “Brightest Witch of The Age” went as the only thing she would have is an ancient bucket to fill once or twice a day.

_How did Harry and Ron escape?_

Hermione knew Ron had that odd device of Dumbledore’s that stole and gave light, and that would be a godsend in this pitch-black room. It was so silent that she couldn’t keep her balance, as she fell over repeatedly as she tried to stand up.

She doubted that the Deluminator could bypass the Malfoy wards, otherwise Harry would have already come back and saved her, just like he did in the Department of Mysteries.

_And yet, I'm here. Alone. With the dead body of Wormtail to keep me company._

Hermione startled at remembering the corpse before her, trying to remember when he appeared. _Had he been here all along? Who put me in this cell?_

Footfalls once again broke Hermione from her line of questioning, making her look around and realize that there was nowhere she could hide from the person coming down the stairs.

"Granger." The voice was flat and raspy; just as hopeless and resigned as Hermione was locked behind bars. Lights came on, the brightness stinging her eyes as she shielded her eyes, **“MUDBLOOD”** shining in bright red on her forearm.

_When did it stop bleeding?_

As the footfalls grew louder, Hermione could see that the figure held a level of poise and grace that starkly contrasted the tattered and spell-torn robes she wore. The robes were originally a pale blue, but were soaked with the brown of drying blood.

Ice-blue eyes met fearful brown, and the sheer void of emotion seemed to make the floor fall out from beneath Hermione. These were the same dead eyes that stared impassively as her sister Bellatrix tortured and carved that word into the Gryffindor’s arm. Narcissa Malfoy had simply stood there and watched as her deranged sister had her way with Hermione in front of everyone.

Despite the pain, the fear, the panic… Hermione felt something else when she was being tortured, and her mind refused to make sense of it.

“I said, Lucius is dead.”

Hermione flinched at that. _Had she said something before?_

"Forgive me if I don't offer my condolences, Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione sneered, using the last of her Gryffindor Bravado.

 _If she was going to hex or kill me, I'd rather have her be angry at me than look so broken,_ Hermione thought, uncertain why she felt concern for this woman.

"That was my son's wand. That it worked well enough for you to have done that is just..." She seemed confused and terrified. "unexpected."

Hermione’s memory seemed to come back in pieces; she had sliced the man in half with the Sectumsempra curse. The smell of meat, death, and stool left her gagging.

"So what's to happen with me? Azkaban? More torture by your sister? Or is it too much to ask for a swift death?" Hermione’s voice quivered. She didn't _want_ to die, but she knew was was in store for her. The Dark Lord was on his way, and angry. Very Angry.

"The Dark Lord is very angry over the loss of Potter, and not so much over my husband. In fact, he is quite... _fascinated_ with you." She said the word with trepidation, almost pity. "My son's wand switched allegiances to you apparently, and by killing Lucius, you have claimed... certain spoils of war, as it were."

"I had heard that wands choose their wizards, but what other spoils of war are you speaking of?"

Narcissa pulled herself to her full height, and there was an echo of the Pureblood Aristocrat in her poise. Hermione couldn’t help but find herself admiring that type of courage in a Slytherin.

"You defeated my husband on his own land in a duel. Pureblood tradition states that you claim all that was his."

Hermione’s mind pieced together the flashes in her memory of the entire ordeal.

_Dobby and the boys attacked._

_She scrambled away from Bellatrix._

_Dobby moved to avoid the knife, but it severed as the three of them disappeared._

_Hermione scrambled as the arm coated her in blood and she blindly groped around and found a thin dowel of salvation in her hand._

_She had a wand, and no time to think._

**_SECTUMSEMPRA!_ **

_Lucius fell dead, cleaved apart from hip to shoulder, ripping just enough of his neck apart._

Hermione gasped as the shock chilled her to her bones.

The wand was hers. The duel was hers. The Manor was hers.

"...Including his wife."

It took a few seconds for that last part to make sense to the Gryffindor.

_Including his wife?_

"You cannot be serious."

"The Dark Lord follows the Old Traditions, Granger. And he is demanding... _reparations_ for his losses." Narcissa's composure seemed to be mostly out of a sense of shock; as if she defaulted into some semblance of 'polite'.

Hermione was bewildered at that. _What would I do with a wife?_

"What does that mean?"

"You are to take Lucius' place, as it were. After a fashion." Her face pinched somewhat as she said it. Hermione thought that Narcissa was probably disgusted at the mere idea of her replacing Lucius.

"I'd rather _die_ than be a Death Eater!" Hermione spat, knowing that she really had no choice if The Dark Lord forced the Mark upon her.

 _"No, you stupid Mudblood!"_ Narcissa snapped back, just before flinching in pain as blood poured out her mouth, and she covered her face with trembling hands. Her breaths came out in quivering shudders as she looked at Hermione in absolute terror.

"I apologize Sir, uh-miss" she amended quickly, "Shite. I-it ap-appears th-that I am indeed your wife. The obedience bonds I had with Lucius have apparently transferred to you with the marriage. Including consequences like not being allowed to speak rude or ill towards you without pain."

Narcissa’s hand shook violently as she took a calming breath and healed the cut in her mouth.

"That's utterly barbaric!" Hermione replied, panicked at what all this meant for the ‘bond’ they shared together.

Narcissa shrugged, as if it were normal.

 _This is how she spend her marriage with Lucius?_ Hermione wondered. _No wonder she was such an Ice Queen._

"It is what it is; and if you refuse The Dark Lord, both our lives and Draco’s are forfeit."

Hermione realized that Narcissa never had any say in this. She had been as much of a pawn as everyone else; while she may not be an innocent, she was never an active participant either.

_She stood there and did nothing when Bellatrix tortured me… because she had to._

"What reparations does he want?" Hermione asked, confused at what he could want from a muggleborn.

"Between your intelligence, magical ability, and my status as a Pureblood, I believe he desires us to… produce offspring,” Narcissa’s eyes dropped as she looked away in consternation, “you've seen the likes of Crabbe and Goyle's progeny, and I could never explain the rise in the rate of squib births in my equations..."

Hermione couldn’t help but latch onto that. When she first entered Hogwarts and understood that she was considered a second-class citizen for spontaneously having magical ability from a muggle family, she wondered if the reverse was occurring.

“Does it share an inverse relationship with muggle-born births?”

Narcissa stalled at that, thinking of the Arithmantic equations before casting them up into the air for both to see.

“That’s what I thought at first; but the rates aren’t linear, exponential, or geometric. There’s not a ‘set number’ of magical births that shifted from The Sacred Twenty-Eight to Mud- um, muggle-born.”

Hermione’s eyes shone with the glowing equation before her, impressed as she made out the details behind the various eigenvalues that the Malfoy Matriarch had used.

“Professor Vector was right, you’re… _inspired,”_ As Hermione marveled at that, a hint of a smile touched Narcissa’s lip.

“Been a while since I’ve been complimented on anything beyond my looks and my blood status.”

Hermione turned to look at her, remembering where they were.

“Why, then? Why abandon becoming an Augur or Healer?”

Narcissa flicked her wand, making the equation disappear.

“The squib births were on the rise at an erratic rate; according to my estimates, we were looking at only one more generation of Purebloods with magic. Maybe two if we’re lucky.”

Hermione made a slight ‘huh’ at that, starting to understand the whole ‘stolen magic’ propaganda that Umbridge was pushing through the Muggle-Born Registry.

“Maybe it’s because your so-called ‘sacred’ bloodlines are too inbred?”

Narcissa nodded in concession at that.

“Perhaps… Severus is a powerful example of why we need to embrace… miscegenation. But it doesn’t explain spon-”

“-taneous magical abilities from muggles? I… wondered about this myself back in my second year when the _Chamber of Secrets_ was opened.”

The blonde’s breath hitched, knowing full well why it opened, and an apology fell from her lips before she could stop herself.

“You’re not Lucius, are you?”

Narcissa started to shake her head no, but looked down in shame.

“I uh… I made a prediction with 85% certainty that we would have peace within 5 years… by 1981. It all depended on what would happen on All Hallow’s Eve the year before.”

“Harry.”

Narcissa gave a curt nod.

“The Dark Lord kept all of us in the dark, forbade us from talking about his plans to each other. It was only after he… disappeared… that Sev confided to me about the prophecy over a few bottles of fire-whiskey.”

“You never really hated Harry, did you?”

Narcissa made a soft chuckle.

“I may have been on the opposite side of the war from the Potters,” she shook her head slightly, “but I held no ill will towards them… I respected them for fighting for what they believed in. Also it didn’t hurt that one of Lily’s last acts was to attempt to broker peace between Severus and her husband James.”

“She did?”

“Albus really did keep all of his Order members in the dark, didn’t he? _Why do you think the Potters went into hiding?”_

Hermione gasped in surprise at that. “She must have known that Severus leaked the prophecy, and worked out Albus hiring him was… _because he was turned.”_

Narcissa nodded. “Of course, the Death Eaters thought he was spying on Dumbledore for The Dark Lord, and Severus is really good at calling Albus a sentimental fool.”

“I never would have imagined you two being friends in Hogwarts.”

“Well, he and I were both rebellious teenage Slytherins in love with Gryffindors back then. We had that in common.”

“You had no idea this would happen,” Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought. “May I see your equations? The one for the war and how to find peace.”

“How did you know I-”

“-I tried the same thing when we were on the run. I just kept having too many variables to plug in, and casting Solvo to graph it out just came back as gibberish and fractured lines going haywire.”

“So the tales of your intelligence isn’t without merit. You were using an algebraic approach, I gather. Did you try calculus?”

“What do you mean? I did it like the textbooks showed me.”

“Ah, okay. Technically, on the macro scale, that works well enough for simple tasks. Where there are _few variables_ and only one or two answers. What we learned at Hogwarts was like... if we rounded gravity from 9.8 up to 10 meters per second to be easier to run the numbers manually and to show your mathematical work. Sure, you can calculate the average length of time it takes to get to Hogwarts on the train if you know the average speed and distance, but you’re ignoring acceleration and deceleration for starting and stopping, taking the sharp turns, and that steep bit of incline near the end. Calculating using the sum of every infinitesimal fraction of time, from the microscopic to the macroscopic. I didn’t lose you there, did I?”

Hermione shook her head, fascinated. Narcissa smiled at that as she conjured the formula to appear floating above the pair of them. The Gryffindor barely understood half of it, pointing to the changes from the textbook examples.

“Wait, _what_ is that?”

“Oh, the textbook eigenvalues were wrong so I made my own.”

“What do you mean, you _‘made your own’?_ Those values are fixed, like… 9.8 meters per second is the force of gravity.”

“Well, if you assume a strict progression of cause to effect, sure, the values work. But actually working from a non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of variables working in concert rather than just a fixed constant. And technically, gravity isn’t the same on the quantum level anyways, so that constant isn’t exactly… relevant at all.”

“So you just… _made_ your own eigenvalues.”

Narcissa tapped on the first one and it expanded to show a matrix of data points.

“Yeah, didn’t you? I went back and made formulas for things that had _already occurred_ in order to fine-tune this; see this is Nona, and it has nine matrices inside it, each with pertinent data of what did happen.”

The Malfoy Matriarch tapped it again to make it reduce back to a single symbol and tapped the next two.

“Decima is simpler, listing ten possible outcomes for the Arithmantic formula to run. Finally we have Morta, the end result.”

“You called your final Eigenvalue _‘Death’?_ ”

Narcissa’s lips quirked in embarrassment.

“It was wartime, and I was feeling morbid. Besides, most of the time I was calculating how things will turn out for the rest of my life… meaning, until death.”

That comment brought Hermione back to reality. She was a prisoner, she killed Lucius, and now Narcissa was her wife.

“Did you, uh… see this coming?”

Narcissa shook her head in bewilderment.

“I’ve not picked up my Arithmancy for years; The Dark Lord wasn’t happy with… well, how my Augur skills were still... _open to interpretation_ . I mean, we did have peace, and it was due to the events on October 31st, 1980. Now he apparently wants to just use me as some kind of _walking Pureblood Uterus_.” She spat the last part in disgust.

"But we're both witches! Surely he knows we can't..." Hermione wondered how she was supposed to get Narcissa pregnant.

"Either this is sport for the madman to watch us fail or he…” Narcissa trailed off as she visibly shook the thought away. “It doesn't matter. I plan on surviving."

Narcissa flicked her wand again, solving her complex Arithmantic equation into a graph that was as complex as it was stunning in its focus. The probability line for Lucius faded away into nothing, adjusting other nearby probability lines in its wake. A golden line split in two, one dropping sharply and ending while the other wavered and rose, darkening slightly. Narcissa seemed to notice this as well before she banished the equations entirely, darkening the dungeon slightly.

"Was that binary theory there? Fairly certain you need to redefine Nona’s matrices with this, uh… us… to get a more precise probability." Hermione mumbled automatically, wishing she were back at Hogwarts instead.

"I know what I’m doing, Granger... How do you think my family could afford to pay Abraxas' massive dowry request?”

"I didn't know. I..." Hermione didn’t know what to say there; she had no idea that dowries were still being paid as if to offset some sexist idea that it was burden to accept a woman into your family.

"Show me your arm, Granger." Narcissa’s wand was out and already cleaning the wound on Hermione’s left arm through the dungeon bars. "I’m so very sorry about… my sister Bella and The Dark Lord aren't the same people they were twenty years ago."

Hermione looked at her wife with curiosity.

“What was she like… um… before?”

“Simply put, she had zeal without being a zealot,” Narcissa had a sad, wistful smile as she thought back to simpler times. “Passionate in protecting pureblood heritage and terrified at how many squibs were being born, and a bit livid that our traditions were being called barbaric and horrendous as more muggle-borns entered Wizarding society. In retrospect, I should have seen her changes as The Dark Lord rose the power the first time, but she was the sister who stood up for me in Slytherin when it came out that I was with Odette. But all that time in Azkaban… it destroyed whatever was left of my sweet sister. When she came back, I could tell she had lost something and was past the point of no return.”

Hermione nodded sagely as she felt like she was starting to get a clearer picture of what had been going on; it’s not simply Good People versus Death Eaters, but a scared populace falling for the lies of a charismatic speaker and a scapegoat for their worries.

Narcissa pulled out a small bottle of dittany from a hidden pocket before transfiguring a bit of her own sleeve into bandages. As she applied the dittany and wrapped Hermione’s scarred arm, a warmth began to build within the brunette.

The Gryffindor looked to the stoic blonde as her breathing went shallow from bare fingertips tracing the inside of her forearm. It didn’t stop the pain as much as turn it into a painful wince of warm desire.

“What was that? What did you just do?”

Narcissa pretended to ignore the warmth that traveled through her own body as well as she pulled away and composed herself in a mask of cool detachment.

“Cleaned your wounds, Miss Granger. I shall fetch you... _more suitable garments_ for when we must present ourselves to The Dark Lord. Please don’t… don’t do anything _foolishly Gryffindor."_ She mercifully left the lights on as she left the dungeon, careful to step around the body of Wormtail.

As the door upstairs opened, Hermione could barely make out the hushed whispers.

"...think you're doing, Bella?"

"...congratulate you new husband, Cissy..."

"...not to be harmed!" A sharp cackle broke through the air.

"Such _strong words_ from the Mudblood's **Broodmare** . It disgusts me to know that my sisters have stooped to _whore themselves out_ to the filthy muggles!"

One set of footfalls stomped away as another came down the stairs. Disheveled black hair and bright, twisted eyes faced fearful brown.

"So the _Mudblood_ went and raised her station! Here's some friendly advice from your new sister-in-law... _I won’t let you sully my sister nor my family's reputation!"_

 _That really wasn't advice_ , Hermione thought as Bella's wand jabbed towards the dead body of Wormtail.

"I'd love to stay and watch, _little girl,_ but I'll need an alibi and to ditch this spare wand." Bellatix cackled as she ran up the stairs and warded the door as she left.

_Spare wand? That was eerily logical and thought out for her._

The corpse began to spasm its limbs to get up, silent as Death. Hermione thought quickly, knowing that Harry faced this with Dumbledore in the cave.

 _What did they do? Light?_ **_Fire!_ **

Hermione reached and found no wand as the corpse of Peter Pettigrew began to shamble its way toward me, with the only thought to kill.

Panicked, Hermione ran to put her back against the wall, hoping to be safe behind the bars.

_It couldn't get through, right?_

But the door upstairs was sealed. The sound of her heart beating was deafening in the silence down here. Nobody would hear her scream as it physically rips her apart…

A loud clang of the gate startled her as it was standing and trying to pull the gate apart to get to her.

 **“HELP!”** Hermione screamed, her voice shrill in fear. The gate and the bars remained firm… for now.

“I'm safe here I'm safe here it can't get me I'm safe here…” She muttered to herself as the bars began to groan as the metal gave way.

The inferi couldn't feel pain; it was able to pull with superhuman strength with that damn silver hand and wouldn't feel exhausted.

A loud crunch and ping alerted the unarmed Gryffindor that the hinge pin snapped, bending the hinge open under the stress.

 _So much for a magically locked gate,_ Hermione thought, _I need something to scare or hold it off... what could I do before I had a wand?_

The squelch of distressed metal gave way as the next hinge pin snapped, clattering loudly as the mangled door fell to the ground as a useless heap of metal. Pettigrew, eyes milky white and vacant as an Inferi, stumbled forward with jerky, unnatural shuffling steps.

_oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..._

Hermione screamed again, raising her hands to shield herself in a futile gesture. Spontaneous magic made her hands glow blue as her first wandless spell, bluebell flames, sprang to life.

She used to store this in glass jars to read under her bed sheets growing up, but it was cool to the touch.

"BACK OFF OR I'LL BURN YOU!" Hermione bluffed, hands alit with blue flame.

The corpse stumbled to a stop, milky white eyes wary on the flames. It didn't know language, but it knew fear. Hermione was in a standoff with an animated corpse, both fearful of the other, but the Gryffindor knew that only she could feel fatigue.

Wormtail's silver hand tentatively reached forward, testing the bluebell flame. The hand wouldn't feel pain, but the corpse that was Pettigrew realized it didn't catch on fire.

It knew the fire couldn't burn him.

Lurching forward, the Inferi grabbed hold of the wrist and squeezed with crushing force. Hermione's throat was hurting as she kept screaming, shoving the undead fiend away, dousing it in the bluebell flames.

Hermione wondered if she could cast an unlocking charm wandlessly. It was her house, but Bellatrix probably warded the door.

The Inferi’s skin was pale, a lifeless husk of Wormtail, flailing as it tried to shake the fire off. Hermione screamed _alohamora_ to no effect as she pounded her fists and begged the door to open

 _With this door warded shut,_ Hermione thought to herself, _I was as good as trapped in a dead end._

Floor scuffing sounds grew louder as it shambled towards Hermione and paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"NARCISSA!" Hermione screamed, hoping she would be back by now. Never thought I'd ever be screaming for her help...

The inferi moved forward, tripping on the step and crawling on all four limbs, still covered in cool bluebell flames. It was crawling up the stairs and Hermione was trapped. There was nothing she could do.

The thunk-thunking of its knees jerkily pushing the Inferi up the stairs forced Hermione's eyes to stare into milky, empty eyes. Its dead fingers clamped onto an ankle, seizing with a crunch that turned into a snap.

“CISSY!” Hermione shrieked, falling on her back, kicking the corpse in the head with her good foot, crab-walking backwards to the door.

Her other foot was bent at an unnatural angle, blood soaking through her sock and trainer.

Hermione shut her eyes as the Inferi climbed on top of her, hands clawing and tearing away her top and she was certain that it was about to eat her alive.

"Incendio!"

Narcissa’s voice was a balm as her left hand pulled the Gryffindor through the doorway, hitting the corpse with a powerful banishing charm, making a sickly crunch as its skull cracked on the back wall.

A vertical trail of grey smeared the wall, a skid mark as the Inferi burned, finally still.

Hermione scrambled to her feet, burying her head into her wife's embrace as she screamed in pain, shifting her weight away from the ruined ankle.

The smell of burnt flesh, clothes, and hair lingered in the air, acrid as the Gryffindor warm held the Slytherin tight, needing the support and the sense of security.

 _Merlin,_ Hermione thought, _I'm cuddling Narcissa Bloody Malfoy!_

Gathering her resolve, Hermione pulled away, standing on one foot. It hurt to not touch her, and she didn't understand why she _needed_ contact with Narcissa.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Her eyes held concern.

"I guess we're on a first name basis." Hermione tried to step away, her ankle shooting pain all the way up her leg. "Ankle..." She hissed just as Narcissa was already healing it.

"The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you before dinner. For our sake, go along with whatever he says." Narcissa's voice had wavered, and the Gryffindor couldn’t help but feel protective of her.

_Narcissa should be standing proud and certain, not look beaten like this._

"Why are you helping me? Healing me?"

"It's hard to explain; if you'll allow me..." Narcissa's hand reached towards Hermione and she nearly leaned in to nuzzle it, but caught herself and backed away in anger.

"I'm a smart witch, _tell me."_ Hermione clenched her jaw, resolved to not turn into jelly at her touch. _Perhaps holding onto anger helps,_ she wondered.

"I'm your wife. It's a... modified compulsion curse. It was designed to strengthen the arranged couples, as you can imagine." She cupped her wife’s cheek, and Hermione instantly moaned into it. "If I were hurt, you'd blast your way through Hades if you had to."

"You didn't love Lucius?" The Gryffindor asked, fingers trailing over her wife’s knuckles. _Why does this feel so good with her,_ Hermione thought, _and why am I asking about her love life?_

"I had a duty to fulfill. Before we were Bonded, I found him handsome enough... for a man. Odette wasn't as thrilled, considering. It came as quite a shock when Draco told us he wished to date her daughter Pansy. Hence why I scrambled to arrange him with one of the Greengrass girls." Somehow the back of Narcissa’s knuckles were brushing against Hermione’s lips, so she automatically laid a gentle kiss upon them.

Hermione didn’t like hearing this memory. She idly wondered if she were jealous of Odette Parkinson.

"See, Hermione? It's not so bad once you accept it; in fact, it will lessen once we have produced an heir." Narcissa's eyes closed as she leaned in for a kiss.

The stubborn Gryffindor pulled away, disliking the strange feelings ripping through her. "I want my free will!" Narcissa's eyes opened sadly, and nodded in understanding.

"I know, Hermione. In fact, it makes me glad to realize that you're not going to take advantage of me. For that at least, I'm grateful." Hermione’s heart sank for her wife’s predicament. "I was taught from a young age I'd never be allowed to spend my wife with another witch, and I'd have to simply overlook my husband's infidelity."

"Do all of the Pureblood families do this?" Hermione asked, trying to stay on a path of logic. Narcissa's smile was wistful.

"Marry for power, and take on a mistress for lustful desires? Many have, but it’s not as common as it used to be. For example, Cordelia Zabini would have never allowed it. You would think that husband number six might opt for the Bonding purely out of self-preservation..." a shy smile graced her lips, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle a little.

 _Being married to Narcissa might not be that bad after all,_ Hermione mused as she looked at the clothing Narcissa had brought. The look in her eyes betrayed how much she didn't want to be around Voldemort. She opened a hidden door nearby and lead the pair of them into an opulent bathroom.

"You'll need to change, and remember: don't anger him. He's..." she swallowed her fear, "prone to outbursts. Help me protect my son and I'll be the best wife for you. To hell with what others say about us." Her eyes watered slightly as she placed the wizard robes on the counter and turned her back to me. Hermione couldn't tell if Narcissa was being modest or just wanted to hide her tears.

* * *

HARRY

Harry had decided to give Dobby's remains a muggle funeral as Bill and Fleur took in the other prisoners from Malfoy Manor. As he buried the brave house elf, he cried as he knew he couldn't get back into the Manor to rescue Hermione. His earlier row with Ronald didn't help either.

Harry immediately knew that something went wrong when they left Malfoy Manor. His quidditch skills had his eyes tracking the dagger flying towards them just like any Golden Snitch, but he knew he was unable to stop it as they twisted into nothingness. The impact of the House Elf into Harry made him drop a wand; the abrupt shock reminded him of the car crashing into the Whomping Willow.

The split second of being everywhere and nowhere seemed to last for an eternity as a wail of pain hit their ears, a squickening noise of a kicked puppy and snapping bones as the boys realized that the House Elf was bleeding freely from where his other arm should have been...

Then there was the landing. The impact with the ground was worse than the first time he had used a Portkey; he had no control of the landing as he and Ron stumbled and tripped over the lifeless body of Dobby. The elf was pale grey; there was almost no blood left inside him as he turned to ask Hermione for some Dittany to tend to Dobby's wounds.

That was when they finally realized that Hermione had been left behind. The lurch in his stomach winded him, and Harry frantically tried to figure out how to go back for her.

"Harry, we can't rescue her!" Ronald cried, his eyes redder than his hair. "If anything, they'll kill her and it will be the best thing for her!"

" **How can you say that!?** She's like a sister to me!"

" _And I love her!_ But we've got a mission to complete. You two kept going without me and, I’m sorry, we're going to have to do the same without her!"

"But she was the brains of the group." Harry said sadly, reflecting on the truth of his words.

"I'm not too shabby when it comes to strategies. Look, we have to get into Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts. I'll talk to the goblin while you take care of Dobby." Harry put his anger and tears into the shovel as he dug the small grave.

Harry filled in the dirt and made a makeshift tombstone, not noticing the rest of the witches and wizards behind him. "Rest in peace, Dobby."

Bill spoke up first. "Harry, whatever Albus had you do, we can help."

Ron thought about it and nodded. "Yeah, we could use a curse-breaker, specially if we're going after horcruxes."

"Mon Dieu! Horcruxes?!" Fleur's eyes widened in shock. Bill looked to her in trepidation.

"Sweetie, what's that? I've broken through some of the toughest traps laid by King Ramses and never even heard of that."

Fleur spat it out, disgustedly. "Soul-splitting magic. Makes one unable to fully die... We're going with them; they won't be able to break into Gringott's without us."

Ron didn't seem too convinced. "I guess we can use her to flirt with a guard or two to get us in under the cloak..."

Bill rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "You've never seen an angry Veela, have you? Wings and fireballs, they have. Stuff of bloody terror."

Fleur smiled something sinister. "Why else do you think I'm with this man? He knows how to deal with me. Harry, we come with you, but you make sure Ronald doesn't get in my way."

"Why are you worried about me?"

Bill chuckled at the question. "Because she'll be a loose cannon, Ronniekins. But she'll be _our_ loose cannon. Look, people are going to get hurt if we do this. More than likely, with the dragon they have down there guarding the lower vaults like the LeStrange's, people will get killed. The goblins that used to run that place now have ministry wizards crawling all over the place... which does lead me to believe that You-Know-Who stuck something down there."

Harry seemed angered at that. "We've avoided hurting people Bill. We're not like Snape."

Fleur snapped at that. "This is war, Harry! War doesn't care if you're innocent or not, think of your parents, think of you! You, a baby, were targeted to be killed! How..."

Bill stepped between them. "Hon, calm down, he doesn't understand..."

Fleur put her hand on his arm, turning him to face her. "No Bill! We risked our lives getting him out of his Aunt's house and it was kill or be killed! Only then to plan to run away and do who knows what! Do you have any idea _how many people died there?"_

Ron stood up, unsheathing his wand. "Don't blame Harry for the Death Eaters!" Bill eyed it and started to understand what was going on.

Fleur's jaw was set defiantly. " **Five!** And they weren't Death Eaters who died, they were innocent wizards under the Imperius Curse!"

Harry was livid. "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL THEM!" Bill could see the traces of Dark Magic that had slowly seeped into them, causing them to be less in control.

Fleur's skin paled as her nose seemed to extend slightly. A thrum of magic shifted in the air. "They were sending hexes at my husband and myself as we were a kilometer above the ground! This is war, and they were _trying_ to _kill us!"_

Ron was hiding behind his brother, his eyes locked on her hands. "Harry, she's on fire!" Bill's hand stroked the back of her neck; it was a gamble, but he was sure he could calm her down.

"Fleur, they are on our side. And have been infected with the Dark. Ronald in his right mind would be flirting with you, as _awkward_ as that is." Bill's touch calmed her, and her features returned to human. Making a fist, the fire in her hand went out.

"That's bloody scary." Ron replied, his voice quivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine Inch Nails song correlations
> 
> Hermione (Beginning) "Sin"  
> Narcissa (Beginning) "Gave Up"
> 
> Severus  
> (re: after Lily) "Hurt"


	3. The Dark Lord's Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets her 'task' from The Dark Lord, as well as a mark that can kill her at his whim.
> 
> NIN song correlations at the end.

HERMIONE

Hermione knew that the Malfoys were rich, but not to this level. She took stock of her inherited house, complete with Voldemort as a permanent couch-crasher, giant deadly snake, and endless procession of Death Eaters. Hermione was wearing a horribly traditional set of Wizard Robes, and she wasn't used to the weight of the nearly ancient fabric. It was a crimson and gold brocade; perhaps something that was three generations out of style but distinctly had an Italian renaissance feel with the Gryffindor colors.

Narcissa apologized at first, but her eyes seemed to smile as Hermione pulled the robes over the doublet.

"You look almost like muggle royalty." She said, blushing slightly. Hermione saw herself in a mirror and winced. It was definitely a men’s cut, but it was better than the torn and bloody outfit the Inferi had destroyed. She idly wondered if this had belonged to Lucius, even if color suited her well.

Narcissa seemed to know what her new wife was thinking. "This was the first thing I could find in Draco's room... He hated the colors... and the cut... and I think he tried to set fire to them once..." her voice trailed into a muttering that was oddly comforting; it reminded me of Molly at The Burrow.

"Do you think you could get me something more modern or feminine later on?" Hermione asked, squirming under the scratchy feel of fabric. Narcissa tapped her wand, casting a feather-light charm on the robes, unburdening Hermione.

"Of course, I... don't know of any shops that are currently open in London. We may have to go to Paris." Narcissa frowned in apology.

Hermione was dumbstruck at that; she had been on the run for so long she took to shopping at a Tesco under the invisibility cloak she didn’t even think of apparating to the next country over.

 _Or find and protect your parents,_ she reminded herself, _and Harry and Ron._

"I can't wear muggle clothing in front of..." Hermione gulped, shrinking at the idea of using his other name, "The Dark Lord, can I? I'm going to have to get used to calling him that while my best friend is on the run, all while trying to find a way to defeat him." Narcissa's face flashed in panic.

"He will see your thoughts, wife! Don't even think that you're going to oppose him!" Narcissa's shock made Hermione’s blood run cold as she saw unabashed horror in her eyes.

"Dumbledore wanted Harry to learn Occlumency, so naturally I read up on it and was able to keep both Professor Snape and Albus out of my head. I had no idea how nosy Legilimancers could be..." Hermione replied off-handedly. "I'll teach you as well, if you want."

"Who do you think taught Severus in the first place?" Narcissa saw the resolve on her wife’s face and nodded her consent. "You really want to oppose him… there's really no future with this madman remaining in power." Though Narcissa never had the courage of a Gryffindor, Hermione understood why people would cower and serve him out of fear. The (now former) Malfoy Matriarch was frightened but was throwing her lot in with the Granger girl.

 _Meet the Slytherin halfway; she needs support and a show of strength,_ Hermione thought, _I have to assure her of my own ambition here._

"I need a future where my friends and family aren't being hunted down, where nobody is enslaved, and where NOBODY is forced into arranged marriages." Hermione’s throat was dry as she held back tears, looking away from Narcissa. She wasn’t sure she could handle seeing the Slytherin’s reaction, even as her skin was clawing for her wife’s touch.

Narcissa lead her wife down a hallway to the antechamber of the grand ballroom. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the unmistakable scent of snake, waste, and decay. She breathed through her mouth in hopes to not dwell on what was making the decay smell.

"Good Evening, Miss Granger." drawled the sotto voice of Professor Snape. Her eyes stung as she approached her former Potions professor as an equal.

"The Dark Lord is expecting us." She stated, stepping around him towards the door with Narcissa dutifully beside her. Severus' hand held fast on the knob.

"He wishes to speak to you. Alone." His face was neutral as his eyes darted to Narcissa, his meaning made clear. The Gryffindor felt uneasy knowing that she’d be without her wife inside, as their hands found each other and gave a reassuring squeeze.

As relief flooded through the pair, Hermione realized that she could get used to this.

Bellatrix rounded a corner, her cackling laugh scratching at the inside of her skull. "Pardon me, _little prince_ , but I'm going to enjoy watching her squirm!" She shoved Severus out of the way, her face smashing into the doors as they remained closed for her. Frustrated, she shoved at the doors what wouldn't budge for her.

Severus crossed his arms and stared blankly at her, his wand barely visible in his hand. "Someone. Isn't. Worthy." He sang it at a low pitch, pausing just enough to agitate the unbalanced witch.

Bellatrix faced Snape, spittle flying as she was centimeters from his nose. "How dare you call me unworthy you _fucking_ **_HALF-BLOOD!_ ** Our very way of life is dying out, and you spent all that time being Albus’ _lapdog._ While I fought to preserve our future, _gave my_ **_body_ ** to the cause, what are you doing? Useless _paperwork."_

As Severus looked away in a bored fashion, Hermione could tell he was conveying Narcissa a certain look. Her hand was on the small of her wife’s back, gently nudging the Gryffindor to pass through. The door opened as soon as she touched the knob.

"I'll be fine, Hermione." Narcissa assured her, fidgeting as she sat nearby. Hermione nodded to her, and went through the doorway.

What was once a ballroom had been transformed into something too horrifying to call a throne room; despite the opulent throne-like chair caressing a sprawling, decadent Voldemort lounging with his crossed legs draped over the armrest of his throne, his pet snake had her jaw unhinged as it slowly consumed someone who had obviously been put under body-bind and silencing hexes.

 _Having Nagini eating a live human was obviously contrived,_ Hermione thought, _yet it effectively conveyed horror and Voldemort’s raw power._

Voldemort remained reclined, bare feet dangling, and gestured where Hermione should kneel before him. She instead stood, keeping a neutral face as her pulse raced. It actually made him smile. His alabaster skin looked like it was pulled too tight over bone, and the lack of a nose was unnerving. Hermione knew enough to avoid looking directly at his eyes, which was firmly fixed on hers.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor. Now, where is Harry Potter?"

Harry had yelled that Voldemort was angry, yet he seemed _eerily pleasant_ as he conjured an ornate bench for her to sit on. It was, obviously, a trap that would be painful or restrain her to be Nagini’s dessert.

The Gryffindor remained standing and took a breath, trying to ignore the singular missing feature on his face. _He's no longer human, he has no nose, he came back wrong!_ Hermione thought as a cold, crawling sensation ran under her skin, up her spine, and down her arms. Her vision tunneled onto the red inhuman slits; she was defenseless and wandless in front of Voldemort... yet he wasn't attacking.  Hermione kept her head for a moment and replied logically.

Could she lie to him if it sounded true?

"I won't insult your intelligence with lies. Ronald was known for his chess strategies; he will not take Harry anywhere that I know of now since I've been obviously captured and would be either tortured or forced to drink Veritaserum."

His eyes narrowed, but nodded. "The Blood Traitor does have a good mind for that; I recall him from Quirrell's classes. Did well with that chess game, too." Voldemort looked off into the distance, obviously recollecting the intelligence he gathered when he was at Hogwarts.

 _Merlin, he was at Hogwarts and was gathering first-hand knowledge of us back then!_ Hermione realized in terror.

The pause in the conversation was considerably eerie, and she wanted any distraction as Voldemort uncrossed his legs and rose, stalking towards her and began sniffing, first with his nose and followed by flicks of his slightly forked tongue.

He traced a line across her cheek with his wand tip, followed by a caress of his tongue to savor her blood. Voldemort moaned, almost sexual, as he savored the blood like a fine wine, before sneering and spitting it out onto the ground.

“Definitely _not_ related to Hector Dagworth-Granger. For a _mudblood_ , though, you are quite powerful." He licked his lips and concentrated on the flavor. 

"There's a need to succeed and be the _very best_ among your peers..."

Voldemort licked the last of the blood from his wand tip in an almost pornographic manner, his forked tongue dancing around the tip before he spat again.

"...stems from being an _only child_ and growing up feeling alone, isolated, and different. You needed to prove to the world you belonged somewhere once you learned about magic.” He gestured outward, indicating the Manor.

“Welcome home, _Hermione_.”

Hermione gave a simple bow in thanks to him, terrified in how… _polite…_ this was going.

"If I am not mistaken, I believe this is now _Granger Manor_." She gave a forced smile.

"Insolent little girl." He cooed, a flirting smile stretching awkwardly across his face. Hermione’s eyes couldn't help but look. _ohgodohgod no nose..._ She took a breath and tried to hold back panic. _He was fucking_ **_flirting_ **.

"But then again, that was you, escaping from Nagini on Christmas with Harry Potter in your arms, wasn't it? Very risky, girl, to _disapparate_ as you jumped out that window. You've got quite a bit of talent in you."

Voldemort’s hand trailed through her curls in an almost loving gesture.

“You know, I once was quite the handsome boy; the brilliant poor orphan sorted into Slytherin with no money or family legacy to fall back on,” his finger lifted and turned her chin so he could almost kiss her, “it’s like looking into a mirror.”

Hermione dry-heaved as she realized that he was checking her out. Out of all of the horrors she expected, she never even imagined Voldemort flirting with her.

“What are you going to do with me?”

"My sweet Bella wishes to _Voreame_ you, but… it would be such a shame to let all this _potential_ go to waste, so why not breed you?"

The Gryffindor swallowed the rising bile warming her throat.

“Ah,” he whispered, raising goose pimples across the Gryffindor’s skin with his cold breath, “you know the term?” Voldemort smiled, tilting his head almost coquettishly. “Read it in a book once?”

He shook his head in a slow, languid, _inhuman_ manner. It was reptilian; it was how a serpent would hypnotize its prey.

“Sadly **not** in _Hogwarts: A History_ …”  

Panic fled as Hermione’s fingernails clawed into her palms, alerting her that there was a subtle paranoia curse active in the room... _just for the ambiance._

"And yes, of course, this is _your_ Manor now. We must uphold our Pureblood traditions. Since you deprived me of a trusted lieutenant, violating _Hospitium_..."

 _Maybe if I anger him enough he'll just kill me quickly…_ Hermione thought idly, before remembering that she had a wife and son to protect as well. She nodded with a shaky tremor, barely remembering to breathe.

"I violated Guest Rights, and you expect me to serve in his place? You know I won't." She replied defiantly, gambling that by not automatically bending the knee, he’d believe he won her obedience and trust her somewhat. "Or are you making an exception for _Mudbloods_ like me? Or just the Half-Bloods I can make, _Riddle?_ "

"Being so smart must be _awfully tedious_ and spoil the surprise that is life. I expect you to do your duty and help me reconstitute my numbers.”

Granger realized that, in some weird way, they were negotiating… but she had no idea what to ask for.

"Why do you think that would persuade me? You must know how much I loathe the amazing bouncing ferret." As his eyes captured hers, Hermione imagined herself in a hot-air balloon, floating high above Voldemort, who was ransacking the library of books and memories on the ground below. In her mind's eye, Hermione’s arms held a journal that had been the only record of the Horcruxes. He had access to everything else, but she wouldn’t let him know that she knew about the Horcruxes.

Voldemort tore his way out, leaving the Gryffindor with trickles of blood seeping from her eyes and nostrils.

“You're still a 'good' person, Granger. Do it or I will have my Death Eaters live up to their name as they _Voreame_ you, Narcissa, and Draco… which I _know_ your marriage vows won’t allow you to let happen. Besides, you're wandless and trapped in your own home. Comply, and I will allow you to have your freedom back. _After a fashion._ " He turned away from her, and she relaxed her fist, feeling free as blood dripped down onto the floor.

“Besides, would **they** have you back, now? Allow you to rejoin their _Order of the Phoenix?_ Take you back with open arms and without a _shred of doubt_ that you can be trusted with their intimate plans? No… now that you've been left here, _alone and marked,_ they will never trust how such a… young upstart... survived without being compromised in some form.”

“Marked?” Hermione asked as a body-bind hex froze her in place. His cold fingers pried her right wrist towards his wide, red goat-slit eyes.

“I have a present for you, Granger." The tip of his wand touched her wrist, and a fiery snake, black as night, coiled around like an Ouroboros. A spike of frozen heat seared through her wrist, up her arm, and settled into her heart.

"Now, go enjoy impregnating _Misses_ Granger and remember, you're alive only because **I will it**."

Hermione found herself prone on her back, eyes blearily open, and nose-to-nose with Professor Snape. He seemed unimpressed as he stood, nodding to someone just outside of her vision.

"I told you she's fine, Narcissa. Her body went into a mild shock from getting branded by The Dark Lord. It appears to be similar to the Unbreakable Vow, tied to her life essence." Snape replied, stepping back as Narcissa took his place and knelt by her wife.

"He didn't form a Vinculum with her, did he?" Narcissa gasped, terrified at the possibilities that could hold.

Severus shook his head, relieved. "I daresay he doesn't have enough soul left to put a shard of himself in others; and considering he's put a magical kill-switch on her, he wouldn't throw away any more shards of his soul like that."

Hermione realized she was on some sort of fainting couch, complete with a lavish pillow under her head and a thin blood-soaked throw blanket on top. The words between her former professor and Narcissa were barely making sense as she fought to regain consciousness.

The way that Narcissa took Hermione’s hand left the muggle-born wondering how broken the Malfoy Matriarch was. It hurt to see that much relief etched into a face that must have endured unspeakable hardships.

"Hermione, you're okay! The Dark Lord _literally_ banished you from his room; I barely had time to stop your momentum and put you down somewhere..." She held a look that shouldn't have ever been in those eyes, Hermione thought. She always saw the Malfoys as strong, and even as Death Eaters, deserving better than this.

"I'm fine... I..." Hermione shuddered in fear at the fate that could be in store for her family. She looked down to her right wrist, gasping in horror at the sight of the Ouroboros tattoo, eating its own tail. "Oh god no no no.." Her fingers scratched at it, hoping it would come off. She screamed as tears came, hoping in vain that this had all a bad dream that she'd eventually wake up from, back in the warm tent with Harry and Ron.

 _fuck fuck fuck,_ Hermione thought, _I'm branded and he can just pull the plug on me… or worse._

The mark was real, Hermione understood, as hot tears rolled down her face and her body shivered in shock.

Narcissa summoned a monogrammed handkerchief and dabbed her wife’s eyes dry. The Slytherin matriarch held tired concerned eyes as her hands shook nervously.

"Did he make any other requests of you? Demand anything? Whatever it is, I'll help you..." Narcissa rambled, her hair becoming disheveled as she finally reached her breaking point. Hermione reached out with her left hand, tucking back a lock of her golden-black hair behind an ear. A flash of a smile betrayed the barest hint of lines at her eyes, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she didn't truly disgust her new wife like she thought she had.

Severus cleared his throat to break the moment between the two witches.

"Don't smother your... spouse. I daresay she'd like some time to recompose herself and peruse her library." Snape replied dryly.

"Narcissa, he... he threatened to Vor-Vore…”

Narcissa shoved Severus away as she held the near hysterical Gryffindor and did her best to calm Hermione down.

“It’s okay, shh… we’ll make this work, Hermione…”

“B-but… I don’t ha-have the right parts, I’m n-not gay, how-”

Severus cleared his throat as Hermione turned to look at him.

“I have a potion that will work for that.” His mask of indifference had slipped at the threat that his best friend could quite literally be on the menu if they failed.

“Narcissa, I realize we're in an unwanted arrangement, and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you or Draco... but... oh Merlin, where is Draco? Does he know about this?" Hermione asked, wondering why she had not seen him yet.

"He does. He's putting Lucius' body in the catacombs; there won't be a funeral for him." Narcissa's voice lacked empathy, empty of the emotion she noticed just moments before.

Severus' voice stopped Hermione’s train of thought. "If you are worried that Draco will seek some sort of vengeance, Granger, he's getting it now by desecrating his father's remains. The scars and bruises you've suffered by Bellatrix pale in comparison to what his wife and son endured for the past sixteen years."

Her eyes met his, knowing he would try to peek into my mind.

 _I can stop you, Severus,_ Hermione thought clearly.

"It appears you have mastered Occlumency, Misses Granger. Were you ever able to impart that knowledge to Mister Potter?"

Hermione shook her head sadly.

"He was too busy abusing your name and reputation for murdering Albus. But then again, the Headmaster was already dying, wasn't he?" Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise, startled at this piece of information.

"Albus feared few things, but the one thing he feared most was how Bellatrix likes to _play with her food."_

"You did nothing more than end Albus' suffering in the most painless manner possible. And secured your position among the Death Eaters. Which begs me to ask what side you are truly on?" Hermione looked into his eyes, and found herself blocked.

"I am a Slytherin; I'm on my own side. Just like Narcissa. Draco is seeking a replacement wand for himself, as his has changed fealty to you." Severus nodded a meaningful glance to Narcissa and left via the fireplace.

"Don't mind Severus’ theatrics; he's a complicated person. He means well, he's never recovered since... well, it's not my place to say. But he does care for the well-being of myself and Draco. And now, for you as well."

“He just said he’s on his own side, though.”

“And that’s precisely what you were supposed to hear. You’d need to know the history between the two of us for proper context. He’s Draco’s Godfather, sworn to protect-”

Hermione raised her hand to stop her. “I know about the Unbreakable Vow; Bellatrix maneuvered him into it-”

“-that’s just it, he didn’t have to take it. And our mutual trust was cemented back when we were in Hogwarts together. He was, oddly enough, my best and least-exploitative friend.”

Hermione sat up, and instantly felt lightheaded. "How long was I out for?"

"Not even a full hour, but at least you missed dinner. It's awfully tense lately. Let me to take you to your bedroom and have a house-elf bring you some food. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"What's going on tomorrow?" Hermione asked as Narcissa handed her a strange wand. Hermione didn’t recognize it at first, but as her hand closed around it, she knew that it was.

_This was the wand she killed Lucius with._

"We get your name off of the 'Undesirable' list, and join our accounts at Gringott's. The Dark Lord has lifted your house arrest and has returned your wand to you."

"I'm to be allowed to live openly as a Muggle-born?" She asked, bewildered. Narcissa nodded happily, though her eyes didn’t convey the same emotion.

"After a fashion. There are too many Muggle-borns and not enough Purebloods and Half-Bloods for the magical community to survive, so he wants an example of..." Her face was carefully neutral, "well, how it _won't be so bad_ once you learn your place."

Hermione startled at that.

"How could you follow a man like that? You have to know I'm going to oppose this..."

“You have to understand; between the spike in Squib births, and the shift in power to the muggle-born… we were scared about losing our place in society; what the future would be with muggles in charge. It wasn't too long ago that we had the Burning Times where religious Muggles would come and snatch our babies away to kill them. Hermione, please don't oppose him outright; be a Slytherin and work from inside."

The House-elf had delivered the food and Narcissa thanked her kindly. It was a far better way of treatment than Hermione had expected.

"You're nice to your elf. Well, nicer than Sirius treated Kreacher..." She muttered, grateful for the food.

"You met my cousin? Of course, after he escaped from Azkaban he would have gone back to..." she seemed to gag on words, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Fidelius Charm, along with a tongue-tying hex, I believe."

"I forgot you two were related. But he was a good man, and cared for his godson Harry. Never really said anything about you; just that your sister is crazy and his mother's portrait could use a silencing charm." The Gryffindor smiled as she reflected on the good memory.

Narcissa chuckled softly. _My god,_ Hermione thought, _what I'd give to keep you like this_...

"My aunt always did have a way with words when in a temper."

The Gryffindor finished the food before and set the plate on the nightstand. "I should change into something suitable for sleeping,” she looked around with concern, “this wasn't the room you and Lucius stayed in, is it?" Hermione couldn’t help but think of what was supposed to happen between the pair of them. _Could I make love to this woman,_ she wondered, _would I even be satisfactory to her?_

As she thought that, Narcissa held and squeezed her wife’s hand reassuringly.

 _You're straight,_ she thought as she forced herself to focus on the woman before her, _quit looking at this like a bloody assignment to get full marks on._

"Goodness no. That would be... no. This is a guest bedroom. I'm going to burn everything in that room to ash, perhaps turn it into a sewing room. It needs to contain something much more positive than the past." Narcissa got up and disrobed, making Hermione turn away and shield her eyes in surprise. The Slytherin Ice Queen seemed to have little shame over her body in this moment. When Hermione looked back, she saw Narcissa in a midnight blue silk sleeping gown that left none of her curves to the imagination. Her breath caught at the sight of Narcissa, and Hermione knew in that moment she could definitely make love to her.

Narcissa pulled out a similar sleeping gown, black and lacy, and handed it to her wife.

Hermione froze at that. _She expected me to strip of front of her? To be exposed, and she'd see every flaw I have?_ Hermione’s mind thought of the word carved into her left forearm and she withered at the Slytherin’s concerned look.

"I can charm this to fit you better, if you want." Narcissa’s voice held trepidation. She was just as nervous as Hermione was, just hiding it better.

"Sorry, this is just... I'm still having to adjust. Thank you, I'll see you in the morning..." Hermione got up and went to the door to open it, needing the distance between them, an uncomfortable smile on her face.

Narcissa's nervous exasperation could be heard in her voice.

"Hermione, could you _at least_ share a bed with me? I... can't sleep otherwise. Never could when Lucius was in Azkaban or on a mission, and now that The Dark Lord and Nagini live here..." She trailed off, and Hermione understood that this was the least she could do.

 _Nagini and Voldemort are here,_ Hermione realized, _will I be able to sleep at all tonight?_

"Yes, I suppose. Just don't… _try_ anything with me tonight; I'm really tired and-"

Narcissa cut her off, reassuringly. "Of course, I can fight the compulsion... "

Hermione scoffed at that, closing the door with a slam.

“ **No you can't!** _I barely can,_ and I don't like that I don’t feel in control of myself!”

“Hermione, it’s going to be okay-”

"Okay?! Narcissa, how can you be so okay with **any** of this?! With me, a muggle-born witch! _I killed your husband!"_

"War changes people, Hermione. And, sadly, from what I've seen, never for the better. Yet you're still the strong, resourceful woman I once was, and I can't help but admire that. I saw it still bother you when you noticed the house elves. I heard about your... spew thing."

"You did?"

"Between Draco and my contact on the Daily Prophet, you've been quite the girl." Narcissa blushed somewhat. "With a good sucker-punch. Which, by the way, he deserved."

Hermione was red with embarrassment. "How did you know? Have you been tracking me?"

Narcissa was shocked at the insinuation. "Oh of course not! I... may have a certain mosquito of a woman wrapped around my finger. It's done wonders for my arithmantic predictions, and kept my evenings from being too dull."

"So you've had pull over the Daily Prophet just as Lucius had it in the Ministry of Magic."

Narcissa had a Mona Lisa Smile, the knowing look in her eye was deliciously devious. "Didn't you wonder why my family's name seemed above reproach for so long?"

Hermione slipped under the covers, realizing how long it has been since she had slept in an actual bed. "I thought that was all Malfoy Money."

Narcissa also slid into the silk sheets, making Granger's pulse race. _It's okay,_ she thought, _she's just sharing the same bed as you, nothing big..._

"Money only buys silence and information. True Loyalty comes from how you're seen and how you treat people. Lucius preferred to be feared over loved. I'm the opposite; using respect and, only when needed, seduction. It didn't hurt having Lucius to back up my infrequent threats, either."

 _Bugger, not only am I married to a socialite,_ Hermione mused, _but a Slytherin power player in the middle of a war._

"So now that I'm your wife, people may see us as potentially weak and test us? Merlin, how many witches and wizards want to see you dead? _And_ I'm Undesirable #2 on top of that."

Tossing her head onto the pillow, Hermione was surprised at how soft yet firm the pillow was as she lay on her side, facing the blonde, eyes tracing down cleavage before she could stop herself. _Snap out of it, Granger._

"Many more will be glad to know that you've disposed of Lucius, to be honest. As for any threats towards us, I look forward to them underestimating us. Besides, that whole _'undesirable'_ status will go away once we clear everything up at the Ministry tomorrow. No idea how anyone could see you as undesirable."

“Ugh, I'm still wanted for the Muggleborn Registration by that pink toad Umbridge!"

"Leading Delores into a herd of angry Centaurs is a _lovely vacation_ compared to what I've threatened to do to her."

"I take it you don't like her?"

"I loathe her spinelessness. She has no conviction behind her ambition; she was a horrible Slytherin."

Sleeping in a guestroom that had been Malfoy Manor should have been better than a smelly tent shared with two teenage boys, but Hermione finally passed out due to exhaustion after tossing and turning for a solid hour. She had been left very frustrated and quite unsure of how to deal with it.

But when she woke the next morning, Hermione felt strangely, _incredibly_ refreshed. She hadn't woken up to any perimeter alerts, nor her alarm telling her it was time to get some pre-breakfast reading in... she instead woke up to a heavenly smell she hadn't had in years...

Warm, fragrant coffee.

"Two cups? Thank you, now go away." Narcissa's muffled voice made her bolt upright in bed pulling the sheet to cover herself more.

The House-elf padded away silently as Hermione's pulse hammered away in shock, realizing that Narcissa had spent the night in bed with her.

The blonde must have come back to the bed sometime after she fell asleep, Hermione realized.

Narcissa looked the exact opposite of the refined, stoic Ice Queen as she was face down in the pillow under the sheets. The Gryffindor couldn't help but smile at the irony. _Not a morning person, huh?_ Hermione thought as she reached for the cup of coffee and sipped it.

It was a perfect breakfast blend, she thought, remembering that there was a massive library to rifle through. She smiled slightly at the thought of the plethora of advanced magical texts lying about, and how she could still do a lot of good in the war, even if she couldn’t directly contact the Order.

Putting the coffee cup back down on the nightstand, she noticed dark wet spots on the white pillowcase. Had Narcissa come back to bed and cried? It tugged at Hermione’s heartstrings to see her wife like that as she instinctively began to stroke her wife’s back in a gentle petting fashion like her mother used to do for her.

"Narcissa, are you okay? Why were you crying?" Hermione changed the petting into slow circles, and the slow rise and fall of her breath shuddered as she sobbed silently.

"I lost my husband, I really couldn't sleep, and I was throwing myself at you like a randy schoolgirl. I tried to stay away last night, but... I couldn't. I came to bed out of sheer exhaustion, and you seemed able to sleep just fine."

"Narcissa, you didn't have to leave. I..." Hermione trailed off, slowing the hand rubbing her back.

"You what?" She responded, turning away from her wife.

"I don't know what to say. Yesterday you seemed to be taking all of this pretty well." She quit stroking the Slytherin’s back and instead ran fingers through her hair. The gold-and-black locks were the softest thing she had ever had between her fingertips, and Hermione couldn't help but keep playing with it.

"Shock." She said simply, "It all happened so fast; my mind didn't have time to catch up with everything." Hermione nodded, understanding what her wife had meant by that. Too much has happened too quickly.

"Where did you go last night?" She asked, scared at the idea of being caught alone in the house while Nagini had free reign.

"I needed to..." Narcissa's head turned and sheepish eyes looked at Hermione, sighing resignedly. "Hermione, I was quite frustrated last night." She wondered where she would go as fingers continued to play with her curls.

oh... she was   **frustrated...**

Hermione pulled her hand away, realizing she was only making things worse. "I see. Did you sleep well?"

She sat up and sipped the coffee, smiling gently. "Once I gave in and came back to bed, yes. Thank you."

Hermione got up and rifled through the closet, partly to get away from the awkward moment, and partly hoping to find something suitably feminine. "I didn't do anything..." Hermione replied, wondering what Narcissa could be thanking her for.

"You held me last night. It was nice."

"Narcissa, I fell asleep pretty quickly..."

"Oh." She took a long sip from her cup, stalling as she tried to find the right words. Hermione could see her face closing down from expressing any emotion; this apparently was a Slytherin thing.

"It's okay, Cissy. I... don't mind." _Liar._ "I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

"Herpy, a moment please?" Narcissa said, and a House Elf popped into the room. Hermione jumped in surprise as she popped in. "Please enter through the door so as not to surprise Hermione, okay? Also, could you fetch my emerald robes for her?"

The elf nodded, and the Brunette felt a wave of relief. "No more ugly wizard robes?" She asked, hoping the subject was changed.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you in the worst light possible; to be a shining example of the lowly, out-of-place, 'Mudblood'. It's safer to play into his delusions. But to the rest of the Wizarding World, you will be clothed in the best robes and jewelry befitting my wife."

Hermione couldn't tell if she was actually helping her oppose and defeat Voldemort, or just trying to appease him so they can survive the war.

When Hermione got out of the lengthy shower, as she hadn’t had a lengthy hot shower in over a year, she found a set of deep green brocade robes laid out on the bed with a note from Narcissa.

The robes were elegant and beautiful with the silver thread detail, even if it did scream Slytherin.

_I had these tactical robes designed specially for me in this war by the Weasleys. (And before you ask, no, they didn't realize it was for me in particular, I just added my specifications and measurements to the Ministry's large order.) Woven into the fabric are multiple shield charms, as well as a few hidden pockets for potions as well as a concealment charm and emergency portkey. Those are a one time only thing, activated if you pull off the labeled button on the inside panel. I hope they fit you well enough. -Cissy_

Tactical Robes? Hermione recognized the spelled cloth, and slipped a hand inside an inner pocket. It was enlarged as she had expected, finding healing potions in one pocket and decoy detonators in the other.

_Harry is seriously outclassed if this is what he's up against._

Shrugging on the robes, they felt substantial without being too heavy. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize her own reflection; when had she grown into an adult? There were more fine lines and wrinkles around her eyes from countless sleepless nights due to the stress of the war, and she was pretty certain there would be some premature greying in her future. She experimented with a few different makeup charms until settling on an understated complexion charm, adding just a brush of color to my lips. She idly wondered if Narcissa would like this before realizing she had been wanting to look good for someone else.

Rather than try and deal with her hair, she spelled it into a modified up-do, allowing a few curls to fall and frame my face in a very greco-roman look. _This will have to do,_ she thought resignedly as she slipped the wand into its holster built into the left sleeve.

Breakfast was, luckily, a small affair. The breakfast nook was just by the kitchen, where it seemed that the House Elves had full control over. As soon as Hermione sat down at the table, she was presented with orange juice, water, and a selection of tea choices. Hermione took the glass of juice and nodded her thanks, knowing that she’d never really get used to being served by house-elves.

She found a plate of poached eggs, ham, and toast placed before her, surprised that the food was ready so soon.

"I took the liberty to order breakfast for you, dear." Narcissa said politely as she finished her tea. Her eyes raked over Hermione, a small smile on her lips as she took it all in, obviously liking the view. Hermione blushed at that, focusing on the breakfast before her. Draco seemed uncomfortable in his seat as he watched the interaction between the pair of them, as he wondered if his mother was into women, or if this was simply the Compulsion at work.

"Am I expected to call you stepfather, Granger?" He asked uncertainly.

"Of course not, son. Just call her... oh dear. _'Stepmother'_ sounds equally awkward, doesn't it?" Narcissa replied.

"Call me Hermione and I'll call you Draco. Settled?" Draco took a moment, and nodded once.

"Just so know Hermione, same-sex relationships simply aren't accepted in Pureblood society. You're going to be even more of a pariah than you were before." Draco said it as a statement of fact, almost pityingly.

"Then society is going to have to change." Hermione said bluntly, "I may not have chosen this marriage, but I won't go around hanging my head in shame."

Narcissa beamed at that.

“Perhaps there is something to Gryffindor bravery after all.”

“The same can be said for Slytherin shrewdness and cunning.” Hermione replied, “and changing society to accept us is ambitious indeed. Anyone coming after you two will have to deal with me now.”

Even Draco smiled proudly at that.

The pair apparated into the Ministry, Narcissa releasing Hermione’s hand as the guards had wands raised at them. The Slytherin didn't raise her wand in defense, but somehow radiated enough authority with her presence to keep the guards at bay.

"It appears that the Ministry has _forgotten their manners_ in lieu for paranoia." Narcissa said cooly, walking forward and beckoning Hermione to follow her. She took a hurried pace and stayed abreast of her wife.

"Mrs. Malfoy... that's Undesirable #2! Are you taking her down to be registered?" One of the guards asked, even as they moved out of the way. The Ice Queen was not about to let them stop her as she kept going, forcing the guards to go from roadblock to armed escort.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. She defeated Lucius Malfoy in a duel yesterday and is claiming the Rite of Succession. I am Narcissa Granger now."

The guards murmured in shock. "She bested Lucius?"

"You have to do more than just win the duel..."

"She killed the Malfoy patriarch?" Hermione realized in that moment that she was going to be known as a murderer, even if it were in self defense.

 _Time to stand tall and own your actions,_ Hermione thought to herself, _and out-pureblood the purebloods._

"I did indeed." Hermione looked to Narcissa. "Shall we, wife?" She smiled slightly as she fell into step.

As they got to the lifts, there was a flash of light as a photograph was taken. Hermione didn’t think about the wizarding equivalent of the paparazzi when she did her makeup this morning.

"Cissy, _darling,_ tell me it isn't true..." came a venomously saccharine voice from behind the photographer. It sounded suggestively seductive, and Hermione realized why it felt like nails on a chalkboard to her. Rita Skeeter. The blonde hair, the quick-quotes quill hovering beside her... and her jaw dropped in surprise.

"Rita, it's a pleasure to see you." Narcissa replied, and Hermione could hear the lie in her voice. Narcissa was good at lying, but the Gryffindor knew the difference now. The Ice Queen used her wand-tip to activate the lift doors, tapping it against her left hand impatiently as if to imply a tight schedule. "We _must_ have tea sometime and catch up on recent events." Putting her wand away, she placed her wand-hand in the crook of Hermione’s left elbow, signalling a type of trust in her spouse to protect and escort her away.

Rita’s eyes widened in surprise as the quill scratched eagerly on its scroll, and the pair of them knew that the reporter had taken the bait as another photo was taken. Hermione did her best to look neutral with a faint smile as the pair of them went into the lift and closed the gate.

 _“No matter what I say, I know she'll twist it against me…”_ Hermione muttered under her breath.

Narcissa looked down and towards Hermione, as if she heard her spouse say sweet nothings while Hermione selected the desired floor.

“ _Agreed”,_ she whispered before looking back up to the irksome reporter. “I shall owl you later, Rita. I daresay others will be... _bugging us..._ for details." The pair of them breathed a sigh of relief once the doors closed and they moved out of her sight.

"Thank you for letting me handle her, Hermione." She said, taking her wife’s hands and clasping it reassuringly. The brunette nodded in agreement as warmth spread through her chest.

 _Merlin, why does this feel so good,_ Hermione mused, _I always expected to feel this way holding a boy's hand, but nobody fit the bill._

"Can you keep her," Hermione winced at the idea, "...under your control? I know The Prophet does You-Know-Who's bidding, but Skeeter has a personal vendetta against me."

"The number of sources she has, as well as her uncanny ability to slip into restricted areas? Better to keep her on our side." Hermione frowned at that, realizing what that may have entailed.

"Have you shagged her? Do you plan to do that again in the future?" Hermione asked, curious as to why she felt jealous in this sham marriage.

"It was a means to an end. Besides, Lucius had his own mistresses and didn't care what I did with another witch..." Narcissa said flippantly, pausing when she realized what she had said. "Oh. If you want to take a discrete wizard as a lover, I won't make a fuss..."

Hermione stared at her, nearly disgusted at her assumption. "Narcissa, do you find me _repulsive?_ "

"No, Hermione, it's not you, I just assumed that you preferred men..."

"Well, I believe I can be... more than an... _adequate lover_ for you!" The Gryffindor retorted stubbornly. Narcissa looked at her wife in curiosity.

“I understand that you Gryffindors believe in the _noble sacrifice,_ but I didn’t want you to treat this as you jumping in front of wand-fire for me. Besides, I thought you'd only want to do the minimum to satisfy the Compulsion and to have an offspring… to survive The Dark Lord." She muttered, looking at me in a whole new way.

"I may not have chosen to marry you, but I'm not about to see you _cavorting with other women_ only to be given permission to cheat on my own wife!" Hermione stepped back, arms  crossed petulantly.

Narcissa arched a single eyebrow in amusement.

"I see. Are we negotiating the terms of our... _physical intimacies?_ Slytherin's Snake, I didn't even know if you fancied women, let alone found me attractive."

Hermione was dumbstruck at this. _Do I fancy her? Is that why I'm jealous of her flirting with other women?_ She wondered, knowing that she couldn't truly decide how she felt about Narcissa, as the attraction was probably part of the Compulsion.

"I suppose you are... attractive, intelligent, and _challenging_ enough for me as a partner. Merlin knows what I ever saw in Ronald."

Narcissa's face went from confused to comical. "The youngest Weasley boy? All this time I thought you and Potter… well, you could do better than Ron. I recall seeing you dance with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball! No, you'd need someone with a bit more grace, who could match your intellect and seduce you in a _subtle_ way, rather than resort to the tried and useless 'bludger' approach." Her eyes shone at Hermione’s description of her while the Gryffindor’s cheeks went a bit pink.

Hermione leaned over and put a slight kiss on Narcissa’s cheek as the lift doors opened, and a familiar looking Hit Wizard entered.

"Good Morning, Lady Malfoy." He said automatically, jerking his wand out and trained on Hermione as he recognized the Undesirable. Confusion etched his face as Narcissa stepped in front of her, hand gently lowering the threatening wand.

"Arnie, it's okay. She's with me..." She said reassuringly, "And she won't cause any trouble."

"But she's Undesirable #2, Hermione Granger. I recall seeing her in 1994, World Cup, near where the Dark Mark was cast. Trouble seems to follow her a bit too closely." His voice was concerned yet cautious.

Hermione shrugged at that assessment, knowing that Harry was the proverbial trouble-magnet.

"I'm having her name and legal status cleared up. I am her wife now." Narcissa said coolly.

"You are _her_ wife? What happened to Lucius?" He asked, putting away his wand. Hermione took Narcissa's hand in her own and stepped to her side.

" **I** happened to Lucius." Hermione said, holding his gaze. He took a moment and turned away from the pair.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke,” Peasegood said with sarcasm, “He always was too slippery to stay in Azkaban."

The lift finally stopped, and the Hit Wizard exited, leaving the pair of them alone again.

"Is it always going to be like this?" Hermione asked, worried she'd have to always be on guard. Narcissa shook her head, smirking. There was a feeling of protection and warmth between them, and the brunette wasn't ready to let go. Narcissa began humming a tune as Hermione recognized it and quietly sang the lyrics.

"Out here in the fields... I fight for my meals... I get my back into my living..."

Narcissa's face erupted into a grin as she noticed Hermione knew the words, and continued the stanza.

"I don't need to fight... To prove I'm right..." 

They exchanged a knowing look and, in the privacy of the lift, sang the next line together.

 _"_ **_I don't need to be forgiven, yeah, yeah, yeah, ye-ah, yeah..._ ** _"_

Narcissa nodded her head to the beat as she vocalized the now-famous guitar riff before chuckling slightly.

"Severus got me into _The Who_ back at Hogwarts. I felt like such a rebel back then with my muggle records."

Hermione had a big grin on her face as the lift stopped and the disembodied voice identified they were on the fifth level. Narcissa recomposed herself to look assured yet neutral as she lead them out of the lift.

The Gryffindor softly sang the next part as the pair of them made their way through the bowels of the Ministry.

"Don't cry... Don't raise your eye... It's only teenage wasteland..."

Narcissa cleared her throat, politely asking Hermione to cease.

"Knowing Rita and The Dark Lord, us being here will be front page news on the Daily Prophet, so let's put our game faces on. But first..." Narcissa’s blue eyes met Hermione’s brown. _Such a perfect shade of blue..._ Hermione thought as she felt captivated by them. Her face seemed to grow larger in Hermione’s view as Narcissa’s eyes closed.

As the Ice Queen tilted her head slightly, Hermione shut her eyes instinctively as the softest lips she ever knew touched her own, making her heart pound wildy.

Her lips were soft, and slightly warm as Hermione was filled with excitement and trepidation at the same time, wondering how she should kiss her back. She wanted more as something deep within her urged her to part her lips for the Slytherin.

Instead, Narcissa pulled away before Hermione could react, leaving her breathless and wanting. The Gryffindor wondered how much of that was just technique, and how much of it was the Compulsion curse.

A coiled tension seemed to leave Hermione’s body that she hadn't noticed was there, quite possibly since the war began. Hermione  had to blink her eyes a few times to mentally reset herself as the words "INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL OFFICE OF LAW" could be seen on the glass door before them.

"Time to register our marriage, Hermione." Narcissa said, seemingly chipper and with a spring in her step.

Hermione couldn't help but feel the same as she followed.

There was a waiting room with scared witches and wizards, all of them filling out scrolls concerning either emigration or confirming their blood status back three generations.

 _Why are they here doing paperwork,_ Hermione wondered, _don't they know who's running the Ministry now?_

There was a tension in the air, only compounded as the emigrants noticed Lucius Malfoy’s wife among them. The waiting room was crowded as a clerk dealing kept stamping **“DENIED”** on paperwork and dismissing petitioners, the red ink a sure sign of what was in store for them.

As Hermione checked the stack of forms for marriage registration, Narcissa instead cut past the queue and addressed the frazzled clerk at the desk.

"Good morning, I need to register my recent change in marital status." Narcissa said gently, quietly asserting herself for the clerk's attention.

"Lady Malfoy, I'm _quite busy_ at the moment, if you would please wait your turn..." the witch apologized, gesturing to the others who wanted her attention.

The door behind her opened, and a crisp yet flat voice cut through the din. "Evelyn, I'll take care of this case... _personally._ "

The desk clerk smiled in a happy yet overstressed manner. "Oh, thank you, Mister Yaxley! I'll get through the rest of these applicants immediately..."

Narcissa nodded her thanks to him, every bit of the Ice Queen in her posture.

"Corban, what a welcome surprise to see you here." She said, extending her hand, beckoning Hermione to join her by her side. The muggle-born did so, feeling eerie as his eyes looked hers over and Hermione’s mark twinged in pain as Corban Yaxley’s demeanor changed from stiff to… something that had no words to describe it.

Hermione gulped down her fear as she knew that Voldemort was possessing him.

"Ah, the Grangers are here! I take it you two are here to register your new marriage? My congratulations to you both!" It was almost campy, as The Dark Lord was in full control of the Death Eater before us, gloating about the situation. "I wish you _many powerful children_ in this marriage."

"Thank you, Mister Yaxley," Hermione replied, effecting a polite smile. "Is there any paperwork that we must complete here, or simply leave a statement with a witness?"

Corban seemed to swallow down revulsion at the mere fact that Hermione spoke to him, and Narcissa stepped in, apologizing. "Forgive me, but my wife and I have a busy day ahead of us. We are eager to get through our day's agenda and be back at our home to celebrate our union."

The look on his face was devoid of human emotion. "You have yet to… _consummate_ this?"

Hermione thought how much more natural this would seem if Voldemort’s red slit eyes were in this face, realizing the reach that the madman had. He could be _inside_ anyone at any time, and virtually undetectable.

Corban Yaxley made quick work of logging the union into the Ministry as a smile crawled across his face in a serpentine manner.

"Off you go, then. Who am I to stand in the way of... _love."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NIN song correlations:  
> The Dark Lord "Mr Self Destruct"  
> Bellatrix "The Collector"
> 
> Song Hermione and Narcissa sing together is "Baba O'Riley" by The Who...


	4. The Battle of Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Narcissa attempt to pool their monetary resources.  
> Ron fails at guile and subtlety.  
> Hermione fails at Dark Magic.  
> Fleur fails to protect her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be hitting GLBT issues as well as the discrimination and public outcry of fighting for the civil right of being seen as equal. It's femmeslash, so I think you'd get that. My amazing wife (and partner for over 13 years) said I should warn you that you'll come across some mild homophobia in this story as a part of the plot, so you should be warned. (And yes, I'm both transgender and a lesbian.)
> 
> There is also a poly triad angle that comes in later, but you can figure that out as the story unfolds.

NARCISSA

Leaving the Ministry for Gringotts was much easier as there was a secured floo connection that directly took them through.

"Security will still be pretty high there, but at least this way we can avoid the security arches and the probity-probes..." Narcissa sighed as she took Hermione by the hand and through the floo.

They twisted through the network almost haphazardly as they landed in the massive fireplace in the lobby of Gringotts. Ministry wizard security came over and waved a sneakoscope over the pair which buzzed and whirled in confusion.

 _Can it tell if I have hidden pockets?_ Hermione wondered as the guard shook the device and banged it on the wall.

"Bloody defective thing..." he mumbled, switching it out for a smaller, sleeker sneakoscope.

"Is there a problem?" Narcissa asked crisply, keeping Hermione protectively behind her.

"Standard procedure for those coming straight from the Ministry..." The guard replied, not looking up. The new sneakoscope had the Weasley logo on it, and made a quiet 'ding' as it passed the inspection. _Those brilliant twins..._

"You're fine, Miss... Lady Malfoy!" He stood up straighter, his eyes flashing nervous fear. "I didn't know. Do you need to see your vault? I'll fetch you a goblin attendant..."

Narcissa smiled, using her charm to hold him. "Actually... Pardon me, but what is your name?"

"Brady, Lady Malfoy. Alister Brady. Confirmed quarter-blood, by Miss Umbridge herself..." He was shaking, as if he wanted to do anything to make himself disappear. Narcissa gasped slightly in realization, but quickly recomposed herself.

"Very good. However, I will need to see a bank manager regarding a change-over of the Malfoy assets. I am no longer married to Lucius; I am Granger now."

Hermione smiled sweetly at that, strangely proud at the confidence in Narcissa's voice. He nodded, confused yet relieved, and walked away. It was then that she noticed the strange similarities of the wizard security uniforms here and the ones worn at the height of Nazi Germany. _Just change the khaki for a light blue and it looks almost innocent,_ Hermione thought. She could have sworn Umbridge had a hand in this.

"Who is he, Narcissa?" Hermione asked, unsure if she wanted to know what had happened.

"Lucius and a few other Death Eaters found it… _prudent_ to target wealthy families that didn't keep in-depth ancestry records and had them declared as having insufficient blood status in order to seize their accounts. His mud... um, muggle-born wife was independently wealthy until recently." She bit her lip as her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"What do you mean, _'was independently wealthy'_?" A shiver went through her; how much had she inherited through unlawful means? Will she be held responsible to make reparations? Would she have to go to Azkaban for his crimes?

Narcissa shook her head slightly. "You don't want to know." The tone in her voice was utterly grave. That it was being said so flatly unnerved the Gryffindor.

" **Yes I do.** How much of our wealth is drenched in blood?" Hermione felt fury take hold as if it were tangible, and it wanted to be unleashed at... _something._ She wondered if this was up remnant of Dark Magic from the locket, or something new from my wrist? Could people be horcruxes?

"She was... one of the first victims when the Dark Revels restarted. Lucius bragged about that particular sexual conquest; the 'Mudblood Millionaire'. She's dead now; Lucius helped Travers slaughter her and _‘lawfully’_ seized the home to become a Serpent’s Den and a staging area for the Snatchers." She took a deep breath, "Some idiot among them messed up a potion and it blew up, killing all of them. Good riddance to that rubbish.”

Hermione frowned at that, knowing the ‘lawful seizure’ was anything but with Voldemort running the Ministry. “I really don’t want to know what a Serpent’s Den is, do I?”

Narcissa shook her head sadly. “No, you really don’t.” A beat. “Hermione, what happened to your family?”

She shook her head defiantly. "They are safe. No way am I going to put them at risk in this war." _No way am I going to trust her with that knowledge,_ Hermione thought stubbornly.

"They won't come back, look for their daughter?... I envy that you were able to do that."

Hermione clenched her jaw and pressed her lips together; she didn't want to cry here. "They don't know I ever existed." her eyes watered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Damn it!

"Hermione, I didn't know!" Narcissa apologized, pulling the Gryffindor to face her directly. Hermione didn't want Narcissa to see her like this; she was the enemy, forced to be married to her, her own body betraying her with false desire… and yet, the emptiness Cissy felt resonated with her. Both of them were alone and frightened for themselves and their loved ones. They were alone, yet they had each other. Hermione could at least sympathize with that. She's only been trying to make the best of this situation for both of us...

Her arms went around the brunette in support, as her lips brushed her forehead in a sign of protection. It was nice, and her body responded to this selfless act by hugging her back. Her floral scent felt like a boon to her soul, and Hermione knew she was doing the same for her.

Moisture was on her forehead and she realized she had been crying as well.

"I hope to meet your parents once this war is over, Hermione." Narcissa whispered into her ear, making Hermione want to hold her all the more tighter.

Hermione sniffled at that, wondering how her parents would react to her being married to a witch their age. _Pretty sure he will have kittens._

Narcissa pulled away from the Gryffindor and pulled out a tissue for each of us to dab at their eyes. Hermione thanked her as she got herself to stop crying, and her mind seemed to stumble upon something.

"Narcissa, how come when you held me just now, the Compulsion wasn't making me want to rip your robes off and have you on the nearest table?" Hermione asked, curious as to why she was painting such a vivid picture in her imagination. _Oh yes, I'd definitely have her pinned down... No, wait, I'm straight. I like boys..._

"The Compulsion isn't to make us simply hump like nifflers and breed... it's to create lasting relationships between people." Narcissa's hand cupped her cheek as the horror mentally set in. It won't just 'go away' one day.

"So this won't go away once we're pregnant?" Hermione asked, resignedly.

"I never said it would go away, Hermione, just lessen." _Oh Circe,_ Hermione thought, _I'm going to be stuck desiring her like this forever? I always thought I'd find a decent man after this war..._

"But you and Lucius... I mean, that was over, right?" Hermione worried that Narcissa could still be in love with Lucius, and simply had to swallow her pride to be married to her?

"My disgust for that man began a long time ago, and as you know anger can drown the feelings of the Compulsion. It will also lessen in most events of self-preservation. May I show you? Don't fight it or get angry this time, okay?" Her fingers barely touched the bottom of her chin, asking for compliance. It was a gentle yet reassuring gesture.

Hermione tilted her chin up slightly, puzzled at her words. "What are you going..."

Hermione was cut off by her lips on mine, and she was flooded with desire. Part of it was the magic, but another part was simply... her. Hermione marveled at how lips could be that soft, gentle, and firm all at once. The Slytherin pressed on, lips parting with a hint of her tongue seeking contact. Hermione’s core tightened as her body thrummed in desire, lips parting to taste her wife’s warm velvet tongue against her own.

 _Merlin, why is this so good!_ Hermione thought as her own body shuddered in pleasure and she found herself reciprocating, hands settling on her the narrowest part of her waist, reminding her of Narcissa’s hourglass shape in silk from last night. _I get to be with this woman, she is all mine!_ Hermione thought greedily as she savored the kiss.

Her fingers weaved through her hair, cupping the back of her head possessively. Hermione had never felt this wanted before. Nothing else existed but the mutual need between them. She felt sexy, desired, and Narcissa knew exactly how to make the Gryffindor feel like the most important witch in the world.

"HERMIONE?! HERMIONE!" Hermione’s eyes shot open in surprise as Narcissa's lips pulled quickly away and left the Gryffindor silently whimpering for more. Bill Weasley looked shocked and livid, while Fleur looked detached and awkward. As Narcissa turned to face the Weasleys, Hermione noticed a pair of feet poking out from under a certain invisibility cloak that could only be Harry Potter.

This wasn't good.

* * *

HARRY

Harry was under the cloak with Griphook on his shoulders, while Bill and Fleur asked to see their vault as a regular customer. The security of Gringotts was much higher than what Bill had explained; the Goblins seemed upset to have so many armed wizards as if the Ministry was occupying the Goblin stronghold.

At least, it was supposed to look like Bill Weasley and his wife.

The real Bill was disguised as a foreign wizard, having been told to get in through the goblin service entrance only if the plan started to fail. Ron hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Wands." The guard asked, and the married couple surrendered theirs. Both passed through an archway, yet Harry was stopped by the goblin's whispers.

"It will detect your magic, Mister Potter. Use the Imperious!"

Harry froze at the idea of using an Unforgivable. He didn't want to stoop to the same level as the Death Eaters.

But the plan wouldn't work if they couldn't get past the security here. So Harry prayed for forgiveness as he delved a bit more into the Dark Arts.

None of them realized that all of their planning would be for naught as Ron panicked at the sight of Hermione and Narcissa in an amorous embrace.

* * *

HERMIONE

"I'll deal with this, Cissy..." Hermione said, sighing out her worry. Get it together, Bill's got a level head on his shoulders...

Bill's wand was pointed directly at Narcissa, and Hermione instinctively stepped in front of her. "What are you doing, Bill?" She asked, a thread of worry pulsing down to her marked wrist.

 _Why is he acting this way,_ Hermione wondered, _Why does his wand look like... Fuck. It's Ronald..._

"Get out of the way, 'Mione! Why was that Malfoy bitch touch... snogging you!" Bill’s face was red in the way that only Ron got when he was angry.

Fleur clasped the hand pointing the wand and attempted to lower it. "Bill, you're going to get us in trouble with ze security. My. Husband." She seemed to stress the first and last parts there, as if reminding him who he was supposed to be. Harry's feet disappeared under the cloak, making it hard for Hermione to track in case this turned into a wand-fight.

She felt a warm breath hit her right ear and Hermione flinched, wondering what that was. Narcissa stood beside her with her hands raised, hoping to calm him down. Hermione knew that this would probably not end well.

"Mister Weasley, if you would lower your wand, I could explain..."

"NO! She must be under the Imperious Curse!" It was definitely Ron under there. Fleur thought quickly and tried to diffuse the situation.

"Sweetie, if she were under such a curse, she would seem... more odd than usual. She seems alert and, how you say, rational."

"Hermione, it's me, Harry. Use one long blink for yes and two blinks for no, okay?"

Hermione blinked once, slowly. Glad at least he's got a level head on his shoulders. The wizarding guards have not seemed to notice us yet, and for that she was breathing a sigh of relief.

"Lucius Malfoy fell at Malfoy Manor. Hermione bested him in a duel." Narcissa's voice was calm and soothing, and Hermione’s thighs quivered at the sound of her voice.

Harry's whisper made Hermione strain to hear him as she tried to tilt her head minutely. "Are you okay, Hermione? Have you been treated okay?" Hermione blinked once, looking at Ron with frustration.

"Good riddance to scum like him." Ron replied, the effect of the Dark Magic clear in his rage. Fleur glowed slightly, using her Veela charm to distract him as she got him to lower his wand.

"They seem to have no quarrel with us, Bill. Come, let us go to our vault." Fleur said, her concentration waning. He seemed stubborn, looking around as the guards were now all watching us. "We don't have ze time for this, Bill!"

"We think the cup is in Bellatrix's vault, can you help us get it?" Hermione blinked a slow yes again.

"Why isn't she talking now? What's up with her eyes? Maybe Snape slipped some potion to her..."

"Honestly, Ronald, it's _Professor_ Snape!" Hermione replied automatically, years of repetition making this a habit for me. None of the guards seemed to notice her slip, however. "I mean, Headmaster Snape now..."

At that, Ron's eyes widened in shock. He finally realized that he was blowing his cover, despite the polyjuice. As he put his wand away, the security wizards cautiously came between us, with a goblin huddled between them.

"Mrs. Granger, we have received the paperwork from The Ministry confirming your Bonding; the transfer of the Malfoy Vault to Mrs. Hermione Granger's will be done by the end of the day. Did you want to inspect the vault beforehand?"

We both said yes. "Cissy, dear, do you still have access to the Black Family Vault? I expect a proper dowry still." Hermione asked, effecting the cold Pureblood attitude she had seen Narcissa wield countless times before. The married couple exchanged a glance and the Ice Queen smiled politely. She understood that a scheme was underway but they couldn't speak of it yet.

"Of course, wife. It was passed on to the eldest sibling, but I can still access it." Hermione nodded in thanks and let her wife take the lead down to the vaults.

Before they could move, Bill's eyes met mine. Hermione couldn't make out what he was thinking as she was too panicked to use Legilimency. "Hermione, what's going on? Are you really okay?"

Hermoine wondered what she could have said to reassure her friend. Would honesty work? ‘ _No, I'm not. I'm married to a witch whose family wants me dead. I have no choice but to keep breeding with her like a dog until You-Know-Who kills us all.’_

Hermione couldn’t even tell Ron about getting the message from Harry.

Her smile was forced. "My wife and I are fine." It would have to do.

* * *

HERMIONE

As they got into the cart, Narcissa asked the goblin to go at half-speed due to her having a headache. As we pulled away, Hermione cast the Muffliato charm. Narcissa's ears perked up and looked at her spouse, obviously impressed.

"You know Severus' spells? Of course, you must have found one of his old books... Brightest witch of the age." Narcissa smiled and she beamed at the compliment.

"You mean, brightest witch of my age." Hermione corrected as she began to wonder which Horcruxes they were heading towards. It was repeated to the know-it-all nearly as often as Harry was told about his mother's eyes.

"No, I didn't. I truly think you might be the brightest, most clever witch since Morgana." She sighed quietly as layers of stress peeled off of her. "I'm sorry about that confrontation with Ronald; you have to understand the cultural mores that have been instilled in Wizarding society and most Pureblood families."

Hermione thought back to Ron's attitude when he saw her with Narcissa. She had thought it was simply the shock of seeing her being intimate with Draco's mother, but perhaps it was more than that. She had never heard him ever say anything about gay people like she heard back in the Muggle world.

"Narcissa, are there any prominent gay or lesbian couples in the Wizarding world? The only thing I've heard that has come close to it was Rita's book and her insinuations about Dumbledore's unhealthy attachment to Snape, Harry, and his 'close friendship' with the Dark Wizard Grindelwald."

"There aren't any wizards or witches that openly admit to being homosexual. We're trained from childhood that we will marry and have children, and that the ones who rebel from that path are usually decried as 'eccentric' and will eventually be found out to be a horrible or evil person like Gellert Grindelwald was." Narcissa looked apologetic as she said this to me. "I myself was punished horribly by my parents and Abraxas went out of his way to force Lucius to keep me under his thumb and an obedient wife when news of my relationship with Odette surfaced."

Hermione was shocked at this. If this was true, even Muggle-born sympathizers like the Weasleys would still look at gay wizards with disdain. "Are you saying that Albus and Grindelwald...? But obviously Dumbledore was a good Wizard!"

"Hermione, in the last 100 years of Hogwarts history, there have been more injuries and fatalities when Albus was Headmaster than anyone else. Rita's book very much played on the theme that all gay wizards essentially defy common morals and principles to marry and have magical children and therefore have to seduce, quite literally, others into Darkness.

"Why else do you think my mother Druella pressured me into marrying Lucius and throw our support in along with the Rosiers for The Dark Lord? He was espousing Traditional Pureblood Family Values. She thought she was saving me from immorality by getting me away from such _evil temptations."_

Hermione was aghast at that. "But that's insane! Surely there are good families... I mean, Molly Weasley doesn't hate Albus..."

"No, she only thinks of him as 'very eccentric' yet made sure that he never was alone with any of her sons. Some stereotypes and prejudices will be really hard to break for some people." Narcissa's face was pensive and Hermione could tell there was more to it.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Do you recall when Harry used Parcelmouth in his duel with Draco, and everyone assumed he was evil because of it? Well, the same kind of ostracism happened whenever someone was rumored to be gay. The only way you could disprove it was by being married and having a lot of children, whereas giving birth to a squib was seen as bad." A thread of repressed anger was in her voice and Hermione just knew.

"Molly found out about you and Odette, didn't she? And, because she was worried about your going Dark, she warned your family..." Hermione said, solving why the Weasleys and Malfoys never got along. The cart slowly took a steep turn and the momentum had Hermione leaning towards her. She stroked her wife’s back, more for her own need than mine.

"You'd think, but not exactly. Odette and I were the other scandalous couple at Hogwarts besides Severus and Lily. See, she was a mild-mannered Half-Blood Gryffindor. Molly was looking out for her best interests and assumed that I was the evil one out to twist her towards evil."

Hermione was floored. Molly's good intentions for Odette was what drove Narcissa and Lucius to side for Voldemort? The sheer prejudice was hard to believe, since they were absolutely fine with muggles. But they also went ahead and gave birth to an entire quidditch team, so maybe they were traditionalist after a fashion. It took the Gryffindor another moment to realize what she had said about Harry's mum.

"Severus and Lily were dating?" Hermione asked, making connections about her death and his hatred for Harry.

"They never were officially a couple from what I could tell, but they were inseparable for the first few years here. It wasn't until James Potter and his gang's harassment went too far and in a fit of rage called Lily a Mudblood that they finally went their separate ways." Narcissa frowned slightly at that. "I think that they would have made a great couple, if they had been allowed to try."

The cart passed under a waterfall and Hermione noticed Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief as we went through without any incident.

"Now, why are we really going into my sister's vault? I know you won't be wanting for Galleons." She kissed her wife a quick peck on the lips, helping Hermione gather her resolve. She knew she was going to have to trust her wife with the knowledge of horcruxes to help her hunt them down.

"There are a few artifacts that The Dark Lord stole that are vital to the war effort. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk The Dark Lord learning that we know about it through Legilimency." As in killing him completely so that he remains dead.

"Very well. I trust you… but if we're taking stuff out, we need to make it look more like a robbery so as not to lay suspicion... Oh dear. Ronald Weasley is here to do that, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. "You could tell he wasn't Bill?" Narcissa's smirk made the Gryffindor chuckle softly.

"I'm a Slytherin. I had better know when someone's using Polyjuice. Besides, I can tell something is off when a well-renowned Curse Breaker seems to lose his mind over seeing you hold me, while ignoring his gorgeous Veela wife..."

Hermione nodded, her mind piecing things together. "Yeah, Ron usually went all gaga over her whereas Harry never did... Do you really think she's gorgeous?" She asked, feeling a bit crestfallen. It would be that she prefers blondes, with a perfect figure, perfect breasts...

"I prefer conviction over looks, dear. Veela women only have sway over those whom are attracted to women. Most women feel either ambivalent or dislike them. What about you?" Her response was diplomatic in her refusal to admit to anything. Hermione could admit she had a great physique, sure.

Hermione thought about it; she didn't seem to dislike her as Ginny and Molly Weasley seemed to, but also wasn't gushing to impress them like Arthur did. _Is Harry gay then?_

"I don't seem to be either. I don't ogle nor loathe her."

"But you find me attractive?" Narcissa's eyes shined mischievously, fishing for a compliment. "If the Veela charm seems to be neutralized with you, there's a possible answer..."

"I'm bisexual?" Hermione mused aloud, never having really thought about it. _It's natural for someone to question her orientation at this age, right?_ "Well, I did have a fantasy or two about both sexes..." Hermione’s eyes met Narcissa's as the Gryffindor blushed, confirming her question.

The cart came to a halt as the goblin faced us and told us to get out. We stood before a massive doorway, and the goblin directed Narcissa to put her hand on it. She yelped in pain, pulling away a slightly bloody hand as the door opened.

"I guess that worked. Thank you, goblin." The goblin nodded and waddled away, going through a door only tall enough for his species. The cart remained for us to return when we were done here.

Narcissa took her wife’s hand and pulled Hermione into the vault, and she was amazed at the amassed wealth. _This is incredible, but why aren't they investing it?_

"The Sword of Gryffindor?!" Narcissa exclaimed. "What else has Bella been hiding from me?"

 _The Darkest of Magics meant to pin one's soul from crossing over into the afterlife?_ Hermione mused, but shook her head. She had spotted the cup, but wondered if any other Horcruxes were here.

"How are we going to make it look like a robbery if we are recorded coming here for gold?" I asked, realizing a flaw in their plan. The blame will get stuck on us regardless.

"Hermione, if Ron and Fleur were upstairs, where was Bill?" Narcissa wondered idly as she pocketed a few handfuls of gold along with a gilded chest.

Hermione knew that she can't steal everything here and hope to get every Horcrux, but could destroy everything... "Um, Narcissa, if there is anything here of value that you wish to keep, I suggest you get it now."

"Hermione, what are you on about?"

“Interdiction. Cutting off the supply lines, as it were. The Dark Lord left something in here that grants him… _a kind of power,_ ” Hermione looked around helplessly, “so it’s better to just raze all this to the ground rather than let him have this advantage.”

Narcissa looked at her wife questioningly.

“Hermione Granger, war tactician.”

She shrugged as she checked nearby books and galleons for curses before looting them into a spelled pocket.

“Read a book on the Second World War… muggle war… and the repeated aerial bombings of the supply lines along with attempting to invade Russia during the war crippled the Nazi war machine.”

Narcissa nodded glumly in understanding. "It's just money, a concept that Lucius never really understood." She went over to a table, took few tomes and shrank them along with the chest and put them into a pocket.

Hermione lifted her wand, knowing only one spell that could obliterate everything in its path. "Get back, Cissy, I'm going to have to burn it all." She focused her mind and her will, and silently thought the incantation for Fiendfyre.

Nothing happened.

She shrugged it off, and prepared to try again.

This time she said the curse aloud, accepting the weight of casting her first Dark Spell.

Still, no reaction.

"Hermione, let me." Narcissa said, gently placing her hand over her wife's right hand, lowering the wand. "You have to really mean it for any Dark Magic to work."

The Gryffindor's eyes welled up, upset at her failure, that she wasn't strong enough to do this. "No Cissy, this is your family's vault. I can't make you do this."

"And I can't ask you to do this to yourself. Besides, they _forced me_ to marry him. I have a bit of repressed rage."

The brunette backed away, letting her wife do the spell.  _The curse,_ she told herself,  _that would leave a mark on her soul. But it would destroy the last of the Black Family possessions._ It would also destroy the Horcruxes, the only sure thing short of Basilisk Venom.

The heat of blazing fire before Hermione slammed into her face as the shockwave dried out her skin instantly. Narcissa's wand directed fiery serpents to crash into the walls, melting everything in sight. A sharp flick of her arm and a series of shelves collapsed as an angry klaxon pierced the air.

Hermione turned to look out and around the series of vaults, security wizards and goblins alike were running everywhere in panic.

"THE DRAGON IS LOOSE!" Dragon?

Sure enough, a dragon was flapping its wings menacingly as Fleur and Harry were perched on its back between the wings. Ronald was there as well, the polyjuice having had worn off.

"SOMEONE STOP THEM!"

"BILL! COME ON!"

Spells crashed through the air, making the ground vibrate as the support columns fractured and began to crumble. The goblin cave-reinforcing magic is failing? We need to get out!

"GO! I HAVE THIS!"

"NO BILL! COME ON!"

The sound of stone and metal squelched as dragon fire and spell damage knocked out support columns. It was difficult to breathe as the soot and heat sucked the oxygen out of the air, and the floor shuddered and cracks began to make the floor give way.

Everyone on that floor would be instantly crushed to death... if they were lucky. Narcissa was directing the sentient flames to smash through the shelves in the vault, grim determination was etched in her face as she bared her teeth in a seething rage.

It was then that the ground fell out from under her, and Hermione charmed the pair of them to fall slowly so as to avoid injury landing. _Merlin, the ceiling above doesn't look to be any better..._

Powdered concrete, stone, and marble sifted through the air as the wand-fire seemed to cease in all of the confusion. It was eerie how quickly it all went silent… only to have the silence pierced by a sobbing cry.

"BILL!" Fleur's hands instantly went aflame as her body changed into its bird-like form. She lobbed fireballs down on everyone, her rage unfocused as she tried to immolate everyone below her for the death of her husband.

 _The bloody bank is collapsing from the inside,_  Hermione realized, if _the fires don't take it down first._

"Cissy, we have to go!" She said, pulling out Harry's Firebolt from the pouch in her sock. 

"I have to end the curse!" She said, her voice wavering. "Otherwise it will go wild!"

Hermione grabbed and pulled her wife onto the broom behind her. "Let it go wild, it will help wipe our tracks!" Gripping onto the broom, she kicked the pair off of the ground and flew away from the sentient fire. It wanted to consume everything, and Hermione realized that they were the closest victims. 

Narcissa reached around her wife, stowing her wand in her sleeve and took hold of the broom herself. They took off with a jolt as Hermione clung to the thin wooden rod for dear life.

"Oh Shit **OH SHIT**  we're going to to die..." Hermione screeched, terror in her voice as her hands went cold.

"Cause some mayhem, love!" Narcissa said excitedly as she followed the ancient, angry dragon in flight.

Thinking fast, she disillusioned themselves and started throwing hexes and jinxes towards the wizards who were failing at shooting down the dragon. The dragon didn't seem to care as it breathed fire and took out various pillars on its way to escape.

The trio of Harry, Ron, and Fleur were firing spells to break the domed roof, hoping to escape the fire beneath us. A spell whizzed over Narcissa's head and Hermione retaliated with an explosion curse, hoping she killed the wizard that dared attack her wife. If she was lucky, it would stop others as well.

"Quit pulling your punches, _we're in danger!_ " Narcissa yelled as she weaved frantically to avoid getting hit by the dragon's tail. "They are trying to _**kill us,**_ Hermione!"

 _Large area below me, all on fire,_  Hermione wondered, _I could try aguamenti, but I could also alter the spell..._

 _ **"ADUROMENTI!"**_   She yelled, hot lava spraying out of her wand and melting anything it touched; walls, floors, even some of the vault doors on the upper levels. A small speck that might have been a goblin fell still. Hermione knew that she couldn't dwell on that, nor on the wizards who were screaming in pain as they melted and burned simultaneously.

 _Just focus on the ones trying to kill us,_  Hermione thought, _and we'll deal with the guilt later..._  Hermione kept the onslaught going as she sprayed high-pressured lava down below.

Narcissa looked over her shoulder, eyes wide in shock. " _Slytherin's Taint!_ That works, I suppose..." She turned back to the dragon ahead of us, and pulled out her own wand. The broom shook slightly as she regained full control with only one hand, and begun casting the reducto spell at the widening hole.

The collected spell-work of Harry, Ron, and Fleur along with the dragon's fire seemed to have made a hole almost large enough for them all to get through.

"Hermione, we're not going to fit..." Narcissa warned, taking aim at the fracture lines as she dodged the swinging tail.

"Trying to fire accurately on a broom is much harder than it appears, Cissy!" Hermione yelled as she kept firing reducto, but it wasn't doing much good. The dragon's tail flicked, and Narcissa had to do a barrel roll in order to avoid getting hit.

As she did, Hermione's spell went wide and struck the dragon's wing, bouncing towards the riders. _Please don't hit them..._  Hermione prayed in vain...  _please don't hurt them..._  as the deflected hex struck Ron square in the face.

He went rag-doll as he slowly fell off of the dragon.

It felt like time had slowed down. Hermione made the tactical decision as she threw the strongest explosion curse she could muster at the ceiling, not caring at the amount of rubble that was about to rain down upon us, before catching Ron with Snape's _levicorpus_.

The connection was weak, and she knew she lose her hold of Ron at any moment. It was Fleur who shifted into a full Veela form, spreading ivory wings, and twisted in the air as she reached out and caught Ron. She was a mythological Fury; her anger actually enhancing her beauty and abilities. Hermione realized she could see through the disillusionment as she nodded her thanks to us.

"Fuck, she fully transformed!" Narcissa cursed in awe, "there's no going back from that..."

The thought of crossing a point of no return weighed heavily on the Gryffindor as her eyelids grew heavy and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story arc of Fleur and Bill was JKR's twist on 'Beauty and the Beast' but I felt that it wasn't truly explored, and as I had not seen a way to put in a transgender character, I opted to turn Fleur from beauty into beast as a way to explore the loss of identity and privilege due to how society reacts/accepts someone who is too far from 'normal'.
> 
> In later stories, I write Snape as a trans woman in the closet, but here I put Fleur in a kind of transition and on a path to feel more at peace with herself as she loses her Camelot.


	5. Prima Nacht

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: removed the virgin part as it’s a dumb social construct to think that a single man’s penis can change the life and value of a woman. (Yeah I grew up a bit since I first wrote this)

HERMIONE

Hermione came to with a jolt, realizing the effects of the rennervate charm. She was sitting on a bench outside of the Grand Ballroom as Narcissa's eyes held worry and sorrow.

The baritone pitch of Snape cut through the air. "She overtaxed herself and her magical ability. She will need rest, unfortunately The Dark Lord will not permit this at present. Might I suggest..."

Narcissa's sharp voice cut him off. "Of course, dose her! Hermione, we're okay. Just trust me and we'll get through this..." Hermione’s eyes were still unfocused, but the cerulean blue of Narcissa's eyes were unmistakable.

"What's going on? We got out of the Bank..." Her thoughts felt muddled as she took the proffered potion that she couldn't recognize it by sight or smell. Her throat… her _everything_ … hurt and mouth was parched, so much so that she simply put her trust in Narcissa.

"Our _subtle_ mission got a lot of attention. **Bad** Attention. I'm so sorry Hermione." She apologized profusely as the Gryffindor recognized her fear and took the potion, realizing that she's not about to poison her.

“What happened?” Hermione rasped, clutching her throat in pain.

"Ronald Weasley was recognized escaping Gringott's after having stolen the Goblin's dragon. The Dark Lord believes you failed to capture your little friend and demands to know what they are up to."

"It was a coincidence he was there..." Hermione objected weakly, now realizing what the potion was. Her nerves and memory went numb and cloudy. She knew she was about to be interrogated and tortured by Voldemort.

Narcissa's lips brushed mine gently. "I know, but remember whatever happens in there, _do not take it personally._ It is not your fault. I understand."

“Not take what personally, torture? How can I NOT take that personally?”

Yaxley was at the doorway, leering at her. "Bring in the _Mudblood_."

Hermione was shoved to her knees in front of Voldemort, the acrid smell of piss and death reeking the air. Ropes were conjured to restrain her wrists harshly, ensuring her to be completely defenseless. She gagged at the smell, raising her eyes to see a pile of body parts haphazardly thrown in a pile. They were remnants of security robes from Gringotts, interspersed with goblin parts as well.

Bellatrix, Yaxley, and Travers had blood all over their faces and hands as Hermione realized what had happened as her stomach turned.

_The Death Eaters had LITERALLY lived up to their name._

" **_Mudblood_ **, I have their statements about what happened. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" His red slits were shining in blood-drenched fury. He wanted her to confess.

"No, my Lord. My wife and I were getting our financial affairs in order when the mayhem broke out." Hermione met his eyes and was ready for his mental ransack.

It never came.

That’s when Hermione shuddered in realization: he's too mad with rage to do Legilimency. _Voldemort was too angry to do mind-magic, and the ballroom was littered with remnants of bodies._

"Your _little friend_ Ronald Weasley was seen there after his _polyjuice_ wore off. Are you telling me you _didn't know_ of any plan to raid the bank? Is this the precious Order's new way to pay for their resistance against my regime?! **_Bring in Narcissa!"_ **

Tears welled up as the Gryffindor understood what was about to happen. "NO! I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! SHE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING! NOOO! _NOOOO!"_ Her voice went hoarse as her wife as forced to kneel directly in front of her, eyes fearfully wide in and they locked eyes together. Her breath was short and panicked as fear was thick and palpable. She knew what she was there for, and was trying to be brave for Hermione.

"It's okay, Hermione. We didn't do anything wrong. We didn't even know they were there. This isn't your fault. This isn't your fault." Narcissa rambled quickly, assuaging Hermione of any guilt. Her words ran together as a mantra, as she was already trying to disassociate her mind from the torture she was about to undergo.

Panic made her heart beat faster, the ropes feeling even tighter as her arms were pulled taut.

_Don't hurt her please don't hurt her don't hurt her don't hurt her..._

"Bella, I know how much you wish to do the _Mudblood_ harm, but you failed me. **CRUCIO!"** Voldemort's wand sparked and the demented woman screamed in agony. The look on Narcissa's face sank deep into Hermione’s heart. She may hate the mad Death Eater, but also knew that Bellatrix was still her sister...

He relented on Bellatrix and pointed his wand to Narcissa.

 _My god, he's drawing it out for show,_ Hermione realized.

" **Mudblood** , I'm giving you _one_ chance to confess. What were Harry and Ron doing?" Hermione knew she couldn’t tell him anything as she tried to put up her occlumency shields, to think and feel nothing, attempting to float away from consciousness and what was about to happen.

Voldemort seemed poised to torture Narcissa, but lowered his wand. He seemed eerily at peace, and it reminded Hermione of Umbridge. _It was much scarier when he was calm._

"Draco…” Voldemort purred, “Crucio your mother. _Now._ "

Draco's wand was raised, hand shaky. He seemed reticent, but after being hit with some sort of hex, Draco whimpered and croaked out the incantation. His face showed how squeamish he was about this, and how this was slowly breaking him.

Narcissa trembled in pain as tears trailed down her face. Her shriek was punctuated by the soulful whimpering that came after, as Hermione felt the Compulsion urge her to do something, anything, to make this stop.

_Lie to him! Make something up!_

"Do not make me ask again, _my dear,_ or I shall see if Draco _has the stomach_ to truly be a Death Eater." Voldemort cooed in an eerily seductive way.

"She didn't know a thing about this!" Narcissa snapped, adding a quick 'my lord' afterwards.

"Such conviction and obstinance... I see your **new husband** is rubbing off on you. I suppose I'll have to _break her_ myself." His voice was seductively soft, and Hermione’s body shivered in anticipation for the pain.

"NO! PLEASE!" Narcissa plead went unnoticed as the sensation of hot knives sliced into the Gryffindor and through her, between the joints as if separating bones...

Hermione’s vision blanked out a bit as sweet unconsciousness almost came but was ripped away.

 _Please, let me feel nothing!_ Hermione prayed as warmth pooled in her pants and ran down her face, breath shuddering as her body reacted by dumping endorphins into her system, oddly arousing her as the pain flooded back and broke through the pleasure.

It was all pain once again as the Gryffindor thanked Merlin that at least Narcissa was no longer being tortured by their son, just before the knives dug deeper and found new places to slice and tear apart in places that should have never had nerve endings.

If this kept up, Hermione knew that her very sanity could be lost like the Longbottoms, tortured with pain and endorphins flooding her system and breaking her synapses. The sharp, bitter cold felt like white-hot heat searing every crevice carved by the imaginary knives, causing pain so precise and sharp it felt more like crushing blows. The pain was a paradox in every way and all Hermione could do was kneel as red tinted her vision and the tell tale taste of copper trailed over my lips. She tried to inhale as blood went into her nostrils, threatening to drown her in her own blood, as the endorphins flooded and were yet again drowned out by the rising panic. Hermione had no idea where she was bleeding from and hoped to simply pass out from the blood loss.

Time stood still as the pain was the only thing that seemed real to her, the endorphin response attempting to once again catch up as her skin was glazed with sweat and she throbbed at her core, panting as her eyes sought refuge in the quivering blue orbs of Narcissa.

Solace could be hers if only she could escape her mortal coil and welcome the darkness of eternal rest. Instead, she had to endure the torment as her body betrayed her and she crested in pleasure, mortified as Narcissa witnessed it from inches away. Hermione was condemned to survive this, with the shameful knowledge that Voldemort brought her to orgasm with the Cruciatus curse.

That was the secret of the Unforgivable Torture Curse; your body would betray you and like it… just before the pain cracks your sanity.

* * *

HERMIONE

The sensation was horribly enduring; a deep sense of soreness, bruised bones, and shame filled her as Hermione soaked in a massive bath. The House-Elf Herpy was attending to both her and Narcissa she smelled a healing salve being added to the warm water.

It took a few blinks to realize she had been here for awhile, naked and in the water.

“Oh, ‘Mione, you’re back.” Narcissa said, eyes red with tears. “You are… _back,_ right?”

The Gryffindor nodded, wondering where her short term memory went.

“I… what happened?”

Narcissa shook her head, refusing to answer.

“Please, I need to know…”

“He stopped torturing us, but… Goyle Senior is dead because he was in charge of Gringott’s security.”

“He was made an example, and not us?”

“No, they…” Narcissa’s hand shakily grabbed a small phial of potion and she downed it in one gulp. “Trust me, your mind _gratefully_ wiped itself of what we were forced to watch.”

As the potion took effect, Narcissa went from laconic to almost catatonic.  

There was a knock at the door to the bathroom, and Hermione flinched at the idea of someone coming in on them exposed like this. Narcissa realized her wife’s discomfort and conjured a privacy screen in front of the door and asked who was there.

"It is I." Severus replied brusquely, "I have the potions you requested. Shall I leave them outside your door or hand them to your elf?" There was trepidation in his voice; he didn't want to stick around for some reason. Herpy was opening the door slightly and had her hands up, nervously asking to take possession of the vials. Narcissa laughed at the exchange, and Hermione couldn't help but smile as well as she never thought she’d see the day when Severus would squirm.

"Please hand them to my elf, Severus. And thank you." Narcissa replied, sighing as she took a sip of the mimosa with a trembling hand at the edge of the large bath. It both relieved and pained the Gryffindor to know that this was a common enough occurrence that she had this tradition. _How often has this happened to her,_ she wondered, vowing that Narcissa would never have to go through this again.

"Narcissa, I have included the andromorph potion as well. It will lose potency over time, so I suggest you not... _dawdle."_ His words were careful yet hurried as he walked away, and Hermione could imagine the billow of his robes as he made his way out of this wing of the manor.

“What’s the Andromorph potion?” Hermione asked, seeing the look of concern flash over her wife’s face as the House-Elf handed Narcissa the tray of potions.

Narcissa stood, walking out of the large bath and dried herself with her wand. Hermione tried, but couldn't help but gaze at the woman’s nude form and feel a pang of... possession? _For a woman who has endured war, a horrid marriage, and is a prisoner in her own house…_ Hermione realized, _she's still magnificent._

"Hermione, you’ve experienced The Dark Lord’s _improved_ Cruciatus Curse..." Narcissa began hesitantly, conjuring up a large, low-lying flat table. After a pause, she added padding and a cloth over it. "You will feel _aftershocks_ once you fall asleep unless we take certain measures now. Come lay down for me."

Hermione did as she asked, drying herself off as well, though she was a bit more shy about her body while Narcissa’s eyes traveled downward in appreciation. The shy Gryffindor used her hands to cover herself as she stepped over to the table and climbed on.

Narcissa chuckled softly, taking the moment to steal a kiss as well. "You're beautiful and don't ever have to hide yourself from me. Let’s start with rubbing this on your back." She opened one of the vials and began to rub the thick potion on her hands, the minty smell permeating the air.

As Narcissa began to massage it in, Hermione felt the cool tingle of potion mix with the warmth from her hands. It was absolute bliss, drawing a moan out of her throat.

"Merlin, that feels great," she whispered, closing her eyes at the cool relief. Narcissa’s hands kept going down the brunette’s body. "Are you going to use this all over me?"

"If you insist," Narcissa said, voice lilting slightly. Hermione’s body was coaxed into relief and pleasure with every slightest touch of the Slytherin’s fingers. Her fingers were soft yet firm, gentle yet with strength behind them, making Hermione feel hungry for more skin-to-skin contact.

The craving between the pair increased as the Compulsion was hanging, thick in the air, while the blonde kept working more potion into her wife’s lower back.

It was when Narcissa pulled away to apply more potion onto her hands that Hermione felt a thrill coursing across her body, eagerly needing that contact again. When contact resumed, the Gryffindor gasped at the coolness, making her body shudder and writhe on the table.

“Why does this feel so good?” Hermione murmured as her wife’s hands went past the buttocks and massaged deep into her thighs, making the Gryffindor spread her legs in a wanton fashion.

Her body, muscles, and joints had been sore, but the soft skin and minty balm were almost too much for Hermione’s sensitive skin, the mixture of pleasure on top pain leaving her to bite her lip in beautiful agony. She knew deep down that this was more than just the Compulsion at work, even as Hermione tried to tell herself that she wasn’t a lesbian and didn’t desire Draco’s mother.

Narcissa took one calf, and then the other, using her palms on the muscles in a way that only telepathy could have told her where and how to massage. The hands moved their way back up, slowly teasing a trail of warmth as Hermione’s hips bucked in protest, and her breathing hitched as arousal grew within her.

“Want me to continue?” Narcissa asked, applying a copious amount of the potion to her hands. The brunette sighed as she nodded, ecstatic at being laid out before her wife like this — vulnerable and helpless— a willing victim to her skilled fingers.

As if in response to Hermione, Narcissa's hands drifted slowly up her back, the motions becoming more and more irregular as her concentration became obviously muddled. The Slytherin’s hands were wandering at random now, no longer conforming to any rigorous procedure. As they skimmed lightly down Hermione’s hip, she turned slightly as if asking if she should flip over.

Hermione took the moment to actually look at Narcissa’s face and noticed the dazed expression with heavy-lidded eyes. She was nearly panting from the sexual tension between them. Taking another sip of her mimosa to steel her nerves, Narcissa took another dollop of the potion and indicated for her to lay on her back and if she had consent to continue.

As Hermione rolled over to lie on her back, Narcissa applied the potion on her upper shoulders, bottom lip seized between her teeth. Her fingers massaged in the potion, moving towards the sternum and missing her breasts as the charged moment between them peaked.

“Why… skip that?” Hermione breathed.

“No muscle or joints there, dear,” Narcissa replied, grabbing more potion and massaging it over the lower ribs.

“But…” Hermione licked her lips and gulped. “We should be thorough.”

Narcissa shuddered as she worked down to her wife’s hips and upper thighs, fingers digging deeper into the quadriceps as she was absorbed at the sight below her.

“Cissy… please…” Hermione gasped as Narcissa’s thumb made her way to rub her wife’s sensitive nub. Their eyes met, pleading brown to fearful blue, as eyes closed and lips met.

It was burning desire and quenching relief at the same time, as Hermione pulled her lips away, hands cupping either side of her wife’s face.

“Please.” The brave Gryffindor’s eyes were pleading as she sat up and turned, legs dangling off of the table, and wrapped them around the Slytherin and pulled her in.

The thumb was replaced with a single finger tracing the wet folds, slowly entering as Narcissa’s teeth found her lover’s neck and bit gently. It was heady, strong, and the brunette let out a broken moan as she was being tortured in the sweetest way possible.

Narcissa's mouth sucked on her wife’s neck, her tongue tasting hot, salty skin, causing Hermione to gasp in little, faltering moans as she gasped and gulped down her panic and building frustration. She smelled of sunshine, sweetness, and the faintest hint of mint.

With a low growl the Slytherin bit down more, increasing pressure as Hermione erupted in a piercing scream of agonized ecstasy. She had never known that she could be so turned on by this, as her thighs quivered in need for more. Narcissa’s free hand was trying to calm one of the shaky legs as she withdrew her teeth to press lazy, wet kisses over the tormented flesh, lips trailing up her wife’s chin as Hermione sobbed from the overload of sensation. She turned her head to kiss her wife back frantically, but the finger on my lips stilled Hermione even as her body trembled and begged for more.

"Shhhh," Narcissa shushed gently in her ear, tongue tracing the edge of her earlobe, making the Gryffindor whimper before whispering, "Do you want more? Want me?"

"Yes," Hermione sobbed, grinding futilely against Narcissa’s teasing hand as she chuckled  sensuously against the her wife’s ear.

 _She is such a cruel woman,_ Hermione thought, _how can she do this to me like this?_

"Fuck…" She said through clenched teeth, rocking her hips slightly. Hermione had touched herself before, but she had never known how much more amazing this would feel when someone else did it to her...

Her moan prompted Narcissa into action, pulling out before sliding two fingers inside. She had to fight against her wife’s inner walls clamping tight before the moans of pleasure turned into shrieks of pain.

“PULL OUT! FUCK!” Hermione flailed, uncrossing her ankles from behind Narcissa and pushing herself back, nearly falling off of the table. The Slytherin’s quick reflexes caught her wife before she fell back, ass-over-teakettle.

“Are you okay?”

“IT BURNS! SHIT IT…!” Hermione scrambled off of the bench and went back into the large tub, whimpering as the more logical parts of her brain caught up. “Mint in the potion… not for internal use.”

Narcissa apologized, putting away the salve.

“I um… I think we got carried away, sorry.”

“Yeah,” Hermoine said, nodding, “why did we get that carried away?”

Narcissa lifted a different potion from the tray and swallowed it in a single gulp.

“Cissy…?” Hermione asked, not used to Narcissa’s silence.

“I, um, have a potion here you need to take-”

Hermione set her jaw as she knew something was wrong.

“In a moment, but first, _answer my question_.” The Gryffindor knew she could make it an order if needed.

“Just got lost in the moment, is all.” Narcissa hedged, refusing to look at her.

“ **Tell the truth** , Narcissa!” Hermione demanded, anger chasing away her lust. “Did you…?”

The brunette gasped in disgust and horror at her wife’s silence.

“ **_ANSWER ME!_ **” Hermione could feel the Compulsion take hold at the command, forcing the words to tumble out of Narcissa’s mouth.

The Slytherin Ice Queen was shattered as her jaw was quivering and a tear trailed down her cheek. "I thought you might need a bit of... _physical suggestion…_ for this to work..."

Hermione couldn't stand to look at her anymore, let alone be near Narcissa. The Gryffindor wasn't about to allow herself to cry, nor be vulnerable around the Slytherin. She got out of the tub, grabbed her wand, and summoned both a towel and robe to cover herself up with.

“You tried to bloody _dose_ me. Here I thought _I was the problem_ ; that you didn’t want me as much as I wanted you, or that I wasn’t _good enough_ , not a Pureblood, even comparing myself to **Odette!** ”

Narcissa faltered slightly, attempting to recompose her bearings as a Malfoy wife. Her carefully neutral tone and body language was a slap in the face more than anything.

“It's been years since any witch has shared my bed, and I wasn't certain the compulsion alone would be enough to help us save my son's life, never mind our own!”

Hermione's anger was tempered momentarily, until she realized they could have conceived a child under a love potion, replicating the birth of Voldemort.

" **No!** You don't get a pass for this! How DARE you try to manipulate me with a love potion-”

“- technically, that was just a muscle relaxer-”

“Either way! Ever since I came into this house, I've had ABSOLUTELY NO SAY over my fate!" Hermione railed at Narcissa, the wand in her hand starting to spark.

"Hermione, what was I supposed to do?! You're my son's age!" Narcissa said, trying to calm the Gryffindor down.

"And you're my Father’s age! **And** a woman!" She yelled back, gesturing with her wand and getting in her wife's face "You have _no right_ to treat me this way, Cissy! **No right!"**

Despite the panic and despair etched across Narcissa's face, she couldn't find any words as she held her hands up fearfully, attempting to get her spouse to lower her wand.

Hermione’s wand arm quaking was with rage as she let out an exasperated sob and turned away from Narcissa, heading for the door.

Narcissa stepped around the table and raced to the door, fear etched in her face.

"Hermione, please! Please don’t walk away… I'm so sorry. Please! Hermione, don't leave me…”

“Give me a reason, _other_ than You-Know-Who _will kill us_ , of why I should stay and forgive you.”

Narcissa’s eyes ran with tears as she knelt, feeling helpless.

“I… I didn’t think you’d be able to find me desirable; my husband kept stuffing his wand in anyone younger and tighter before going to Azkaban, and when he got out, he was… he was a monster.”

Hermione took a knee to look in her wife’s pleading eyes, an echo of what happened previously as she couldn't really pull herself away from the blonde Slytherin.

“You really worried that I’d not be able to… be willing to perform?”

Narcissa nodded. “You’re not the only prisoner here. You’re not the only one stuck in this marriage against your will. I’m forced to serve and obey you, till death do us part. Would you have ever wanted to woo the mother of your school age tormentor? Of course not, but…” She trailed off, letting Hermione hold and comfort her in that moment.

"...but we are where we are now, aren't we? We are supposed to be doing this, under The Dark Lord’s threat of death for us. And for Draco.” As Narcissa pulled away from the hug, brushing tears from her cheek, she was surprised as Hermione went in for a kiss, deepening with a fierce bravery that only a Gryffindor could have.

The Compulsion seemed to feed on this as both women felt their bodies spike in desire. Narcissa found herself returning her kiss cravenly, meeting her with so much fervor that they only pulled away when the need for air was too great.

“So Cissy,” Hermione cooed, “now do you believe that I could find you attractive?”

Narcissa was dazed; drunk from the kiss and couldn’t respond with coherent words yet.

“Answer me…” Hermione said in a sing-song manner as her wife nodded, eyes seemingly glazed over as she was finally coming to.

Hermione’s hands seized Narcissa’s head and grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of the skull as her other hand gripped her bum possessively. With a sharp tug at her scalp, the Slytherin whimpered in painful desire, making the brunette smile in appreciation.

"I do not want to have my mind and body altered any more to _FORCE_ me to desire you. Is that understood?!" Her anger and lust merged into something new, something quite different, and her mind was swimming in new feelings as Narcissa licked her lips in an almost sultry way.

"Yeah, understood. Hermione, I’m sorry, I was only trying to make it easier for us to do this. I mean I’m older, gone through childbirth… you seemed like you would be reticent to make love to me..." Narcissa replied, frowning. "We never would have been here if not for the Compulsion." Her voice was matter-of-fact, and the Gryffindor couldn't argue with her.

Hermione sighed in exasperation.

“You’re right, we might have never wound up here in any other way, but I wouldn’t say I’m reticent… just trust me to CHOOSE to want to do this, okay? I've made a promise to protect you and Draco, and I intend to keep it. Let me have my free will and just maybe I will surprise you.”

Narcissa nodded. “You’ve already surprised me, wife.”

Hermione liked the way she said ‘wife’, getting to her feet and offering her a hand to help her up.

“Besides, The Dark Lord was conceived in a loveless marriage because Merope Gaunt kept a muggle on love potion for years. I don’t want that to be us, okay? And I should let you know that I plan on using this marriage to improve the Wizarding World, that that I’ll do my best to let you have your own free will in this marriage."

Narcissa graciously accepted Hermione’s hand as she rose from the ground, holding onto the muggle-born’s fingers a moment too long.

"I may not have chosen you as a mate before, but I will take whatever happiness and joy I can from this. I pledge that your eyes will be the first thing I smile at in the morning, and your name be what I cry out into the night. I pledge to you the first bite of my meat, and first drink from my cup.”

Hermione and Narcissa both felt the Compulsion pulse between them as the Pureblood continued her vows.

“I pledge to you my life, and my loyalty to our progeny. Though I am bound to you, I trust that you will lead us into the uncertain waters ahead of us. I will keep your confidences and do my best to be a wand at your side, and a shield at your back.”

Hermione leaned in and kissed her wife, asserting her newfound Dominance as she parted Narcissa’s lips with her own, probing gently into her wife’s mouth with her tongue. She responded favorably as her fingers twined through brown curls and cradled Hermione’s head. It felt marginally better for Hermione as she took the lead in this, and felt immensely grateful that the Slytherin would let her.

Narcissa’s moans were the Gryffindor’s undoing as their tongues caressed each other, bodies responding as if they had been specifically keyed to each other.

Narcissa's hands flew from Hermione’s hair to her ass, clutching roughly as she ground her pelvis against the Gryffindor wantonly. Narcissa abandoned her tongue's persistent ambush upon Hermione’s mouth as she trailed kisses downward to feast upon her breast.

As the Slytherin licked and sucked on a nipple, her fingers dug into the Gryffindor’s waist possessively as she guided the brunette back to the table they had recently been on.

_How is it she can do this to me?_

Hermione was sitting on the table as Narcissa looked up at her with cerulean, lust-fueled eyes. As their eyes held each other's gaze, Hermione slowly down on her back, offering herself up wholly to the Slytherin.

Narcissa leaned into her wife, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Do you trust me, Hermione?" She breathed into Hermione’s ear, grazing her teeth against the earlobe. The brave brunette closed her eyes and bit her lip nervously.

"Quit trying to manipulate me covertly?" She replied, untying her robe sash. In that moment, the Gryffindor knew that her wife was mere putty in her hands and would agree to anything.

Narcissa had smirked her agreement as she took both wrists and pinned them firmly above the Gryffindor’s head. The flash of panic from being restrained transformed into hot desire within seconds.

 _She would be literal about this, wouldn't she?_ Hermione thought as she struggled up enough to kiss the blonde.

Narcissa roughly kissed her wife’s neck, then sucked on it to make Hermione yelp in surprise. She shuddered beneath as the blonde shifted to hold both hands with only one of hers as the other splayed the brunette’s robe open. Hermione’s eyes were pleading for Narcissa to continue as she realized that the blonde’s eyes were _feasting_ on her.

"Sweet Circe, you're beautiful..." Narcissa muttered as her lips met Hermione’s, still restraining her wife’s hands on the table.

They moaned and breathed against each other, both tongues dancing in the other's mouth. Narcissa broke the kiss and, with her free hand, she deftly slid three fingers inside her wife’s slick folds. The sudden fullness was unexpected and Hermione gasped loudly, her body going rigid. The brunette’s jaw dropped as her lips made a silent 'oh' and her eyes flicked to the ceiling.

Narcissa used the opportunity to drive herself deeper inside, Hermione’s body cresting in pleasure as she seemed to grow more wet and her hips rocked to meet her wife’s hand with each stroke.

"Cissy…" She softly moaned, the desperate plea made all the more tangible as a fourth finger slid inside. The Gryffindor was tight, full, and wantonly accepting her wife’s fingers inside. The brunette’s thighs quivered from the onslaught as waves of pleasure were threatening to crest and crash upon each other. Narcissa kissed Hermione as her thumb found her sensitive spot as her fingers pulsed in and out, curling deeper with every thrust as she thumbed the now swollen clit.

The brunette wasn't certain if she was making coherent noises anymore as she clawed at Narcissa's back, convulsing as the sensations threatened to drown her in pleasure. A sheen of cold sweat broke out all over her body, something she had never experienced before...

"Let it happen, love. Kiss me as you come..." Narcissa's words were silk to Hermione’s ears and she let herself explode around her wife’s hand and into her mouth, her own moans being drawn into her as if the Slytherin could drink in an orgasm.

 _Could she feel what I felt there,_ Hermione wondered, _could I do this for her as well?_

Hermione lost track of the time there as she waited for the crashing waves of pleasure to finally subside. They were both left out of breath yet neither wanted to relent as their lips traced every available bit of skin between themselves. Narcissa seemed to favor nipping with her teeth, which made Hermione struggle to keep her composure.

"I could go for another round, Narcissa." Hermione shuddered as the Slytherin summoned a small vial.

"What is that?"

"So... this is the andromorph potion. It will allow us to um... you will have temporary masculine qualities." Narcissa blushed as she said it, the hint of color making her look all the more delectable.

"And it's entirely safe? I'll revert completely once it's finished?"

"Yes, Severus invented it as a modification of the polyjuice potion years ago." That made sense, the so-called Half Blood Prince was brilliant at... _wait..._

"Whose genetic material was used for this to...? I'm to take only a partial change to have male shape..." It dawned on the Gryffindor as she realized Severus had been acting oddly when he delivered the potion.

"I know for a fact that you'll have the functioning parts, but it would be your... _genetic material..._ that would be passed on. This was used in the Arthurian legend when Merlin made it." Narcissa's words sounded a bit _too_ knowledgeable.

"And you know this how?" Hermione’s libido wasn't extinguished as much as it was simply her morbid curiosity surfacing.

"I... may have helped him test it. But this time, there's no contraception component included."

 _Because it was Voldemort's decree to make us breed like cattle,_ Hermione reminded herself.

"I had forgotten that You-Know... No. **I choose this.** " With that, Hermione drank the contents of the vial in one gulp, and tried to not focus on the flavor as her body morphed and altered into its new conformation.

As she lay still, Hermione idly wondered how in-depth this potion would change her body. Her breasts and face felt the same, so she focused her attention towards her groin. It felt swollen and turgid, while still expanding as the sensations seemed to only increase a sense of budding frustration.

_How do blokes deal with this on a daily basis?_

"Narcissa, are you sure this isn't about to explode? It's just... getting a bit unwieldy." Hermione asked nervously, before she realized that she had no idea how big this was supposed to get and could only hope for _it_ to know when to stop.

She chuckled and winked in that dark way that only spurred on the brunette’s desire. "Getting it to explode is the point, isn't it?" As she took it in her hand, Hermione’s hips twitched in surprise.

A thread of panic went into her voice. "Oh... uh...well, you know what I mean. How do I even use this? I feel like I'm going to bump into things with this... thing."

Before Hermione even knew what Narcissa was doing, the blonde’s soft tongue and even softer lips wrapped around her new member in a warm and velvety embrace. _Merlin, so that's what the fuss is about!_ Hermione thought as Narcissa’s mouth slowly drew downward, engulfing her wife so slowly that the Gryffindor fought the urge to meet the blonde halfway with a thrust of her hips.

She chuckled again, and Hermione felt the vibration as she changed the firmness of her tongue and applied just a bit of suction. Narcissa’s eyes met Hermione’s and she was utterly hers and she knew it.

And that's when she slowly drew herself back up, tantalizing Hermione with her skill and knowledge. "I dare say, Hermione, that your objective is to repeat that sensation as a union of our two bodies. Can't say I'm not a bit curious as to how a Gryffindor such as yourself would shag..."

Hermione scrambled up from the table and had Narcissa beneath her on the ground, a cushioning charm applied to the towel beneath them. She looked so warm and willing beneath the Gryffindor as she awkwardly tried to figure out how to position herself to enter the Slytherin.

 _The damn thing won't even help me line up for this,_ Hermione cursed to herself silently.

"Get on with it Granger," growled Cissy and Hermione jumped, confused at trying to fit the contours of their bodies together, "Don't overthink this, love."

Hermione nearly stumbled as she attempted to get both of her knees between Narcissa’s. The tip of her new shaft poked her sex accidentally and the blonde made a small whimper of need, which only spurred the Gryffindor on more.

Hermione was at her wife’s entrance and Narcissa had helpfully wrapped her hand around her wife in order to help guide her in. The brunette thought she was being slow and gentle as the blonde slid forward and enveloped her wife in one smooth stroke. Narcissa made a short whimper in surprise, however, as Hermione’s tip met her wife’s cervix.

"Slytherin's Snake, that's a..." She said as Hermione flinched, starting to pull out, "No nonono, let me adjust to this... just stay right here." The blonde’s hips rolled as Hermione realized she must not have been prepared enough for the... girth.

"Narcissa, I'm sorry, I didn't think to be sure..." Hermione began to apologize, but a kiss quickly cut her off.

"Nobody gets it exactly right the first time. Besides, I'm just as randy as you are and would have wanted you to just fuck me already."

Something about the way the word 'fuck' rolled off of her lips made the brunette smile. It was dirty, crass, and... _hot._ Hermione made a short thrust with her pelvis to accentuate the playful smirk.

"Hm. 'Fuck', you say?"

Narcissa nodded, using her kegel muscles to squeeze around me. “I do say.”

"Merlin's Bollocks!" Hermione gasped, surprised that her wife could do that.

"Wife, you can be a lot rougher than that with me, okay?" She asked, lust punctuating her gaze at the woman above her.

Hermione nodded as she slowly withdrew herself by an inch and thrust back in. Judging from their mutual moans of pleasure, she knew that she was doing this right. The Gryffindor kept on with her new extension, keeping up a constant rhythm as she sank herself into the blonde. But she felt like she needed more, so Hermione took the moment to use her teeth on Narcissa as well, biting and marking her wife as hers as she kept... _fucking..._ her.

Even as the brunette bit her, their pace never slowed. Everything was wet, and tight, and needy as they persisted in their lovemaking.

They shifted into a new position, Hermione folding her wife’s leg between them, having the knee against her shoulder. She thought that she could find a deeper purchase within her this way, and liked the idea of having her pinned down to the ground.

The Gryffindor continued her onslaught, noticing the rhythm quicken even as they laid sweet but urgent kisses on each other's faces. Soon it became apparent that Hermione was about to climax, and Narcissa must have noticed the look on her wife’s face as deft fingers reached between them and made her own body tighten in anticipation.

"It's okay, Hermione. Fuck me and come." She could tell that the Gryffindor liked the utter lack of propriety and the brunette pounded away inside her wife with an utter sense of abandon.

As their eyes met, Hermione instantly knew that they were both going to climax at the same time. Narcissa had timed it so that they were both on the verge of finishing as eyes locked, and they pushed each other over the edge for a synchronized orgasm.

"Fuckfuckfuck..." Hermione muttered as she collapsed onto Narcissa, feeling her own  release as arms and lips tangled together in a needy embrace.

They were sated, feeling bonelessly limp, and smiling at each other. Hermione knew that this wasn't the standard fare, but she had thoroughly enjoyed herself.

Rolling off of her, the brunette basked in the afterglow as a searing pain sliced through her right wrist. The bathroom door was thrown open as Narcissa’s demented sister danced in glee.

"The Dark Lord wants all of us in the Forbidden Forest! **Tonight we kill Harry Potter!** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see a bit more of the sub-story that I cut out in the original version: sadomasochism being two sides of the same coin.


	6. The Battle of Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I limit the amount of "ze eenglish" that Fleur tries to speak because it's bloody annoying and I know French people who are fluent in English.

HARRY

Drying themselves off with their wands, Harry and Fleur quietly discussed what they had seen in their failed mission. Ron, however, was seemingly fixated on Hermione.

"Harry, what was she doing there?! I had thought... Merlin, I recall her being t-to-tortured right before we left, how the b-bloody hell did she wind up _snogging_ that **bitch!** " Ron stammered, teeth chattering in the cold.

Harry and Fleur exchanged a look that conveyed _‘Really? We barely survived on a dragon and he’s asking about a kiss?’_

"Ronald, NOT NOW! I mean, don’t you think I wish to mourn my husband, _your brother_ , who just died?!" Fleur's face no longer held the ethereal beauty but instead the cold rage that was always inside her. Folding her wings back in, she threw a fireball onto some driftwood and ignited it for the three of them to warm up.

Harry nodded, eagerly rubbing his hands and holding them up towards the fire.

"Well, Hermione said she would help us, and that's exactly what happened. If there was a Horcrux in that vault, it's destroyed now," Harry replied, "besides, she's the one who saved you when you fell off of the dragon.”

“What? Fleur had me.” Ron retorted, confused at what his friend had said.

Harry shook his head as he shivered. “Yeah, Fleur grabbed you, but only _after_ you were dangling from an ankle. Who else knows levicorpus?"

Ron let out an exasperated breath at that, dismissing Harry’s point altogether.

"She's _shacked up_ with a Death Eater and using Snape's spells, and **_You-Know-Who_ ** probably tortured and put her under the Imperius curse for all we know. I’m just saying that we can’t trust her!"

"Mon Dieu, we're really going to stand around and... _chitter_ about this?! In the bank, she used **cursed fire** ; nothing can survive that. How many more of these _morceaux de merde_ are there?"

"Well, can she really be married to another witch?" Ron asked, ignoring Fleur's question.

Harry was done with Ron’s fixation as the Chosen One mentally went over the list of Horcruxes left.

"There’s only two more; one is the snake, another is something..." Harry's response was cut short by his flinching in pain, hand slapping onto his lightning-shaped scar as he took a knee. "It's at Hogwarts! He thinks it's safe because of Snape..."

"Then we go there, we destroy it, and then we kill him! Bill's death will _not_ have been in vain." Grim determination was in her voice as she apparated the three of them to Hogsmeade, rushing into the nearest building as a caterwauling alarm pierced the night air.

* * *

Aberforth didn't expect any visitors this late; neither did he expect to find himself tied to a chair with the singed bodies of two Death Eaters at his feet. He would never again find a Veela beautiful, nor could he ever see barbecue as appetizing. Ron was somehow still pillaging the bar for food while Harry put up defensive spells around them in case more Death Eaters came poking around.

"Any chance you can turn back into a human form, miss? I'd hate to get immolated due to an accidental touch with those hands of yours..." Aberforth said, the safety of his bar a far distant second in his mind.

"No, I am only half-Veela. My change was permanent." Dark resignation filled her voice, and Aberforth seemed to almost pity her. "We need to get into Hogwarts."

A nearby portrait unlocked a hidden doorway, exposing a long passageway. Fleur shrugged her thanks and released the aged barkeep.

"The Daily Prophet reported that Hermione claimed the Right to Succession, and that it's Narcissa Granger now. What's that about?" Ron asked, trying to sound more curious than jealous.

As the trio made their way through the darkness, Fleur sighed heavily. "Purebloods like the Malfoys kept to the Old Ways. It ensured a strong union, but also allowed for one to duel for the witch, ensuring that the most powerful Wizard produced the most offspring. 'Might is Right', you could say."

"But they are both women! She can't... you know... do that." Ron replied, horrified.

"She killed Lucius in his home, she wins his property, which includes the wife. It is that simple." Fleur replied, disgusted at the archaic laws.

"And You-Know-Who went along with it? He was always about blood purity and killing her kind!" Ron questioned loudly.

"Mad men in power seldom make sense; perhaps he wanted to stick to the Old Ways." Fleur spat, her eyes narrowing in the darkness, "Who are you?!" Her sharp voice echoed to the other end of the corridor.

"Neville Longbottom. About time you showed up, Ronald! Who is that with you? Is Harry here?"

* * *

HERMIONE

Narcissa and her wife dressed in the awkward silence, unsure of what to say now. The Slytherin knew her wife wouldn't raise a wand against the Order, but that she also wasn't about to leave her and Draco to Voldemort's mercy.

They each were in their tactical robes as they left the gates of the manor to apparate to the Forbidden Forest. Bellatrix seemed oddly gleeful; she must have been scheming something while the couple had been... indisposed.

"Stow your wand. Inside pocket." Narcissa whispered as she picked up a stick and looked at it. Hermione slipped it in, confused at what was going on.

With a deft tap, the stick was transfigured into a perfect replica of Hermione’s wand and the Slytherin put into her wife’s hand. It felt hollow to the Gryffindor, and she knew that we wouldn't be able to cast any spells with it.

As Hermione looked at her wife questioningly, Narcissa took her hand and hooked it into her arm. "I'll apparate us, Hermione." She said quietly as the brunette felt the tight bands of apparition take them away. It was a quiet pop, surprising the Gryffindor at the level of control and delicate grace she had with her magic.

 _The Death Eaters were all preparing to attack Hogwarts, but there was a noticeable absence of blonde hair in the crowd,_ Hermione thought. _What is Draco up to?_

The fake wand in Hermione’s hand was casually pulled out of her hands and snapped in two by Voldemort as a mere afterthought. "In case you had any bright ideas, Mudblood..."

Hermione realized that Narcissa had expected this to happen, and had saved her wand with the decoy. The look they shared conveyed understanding and thanks, up until the Slytherin started to look around for her son.

"Bella, where's my son?" The thread of panic in Narcissa's voice set Hermione on edge.

"Shh... Draco is going to just nip into the school, bring back Potter, and then I'll get the honor of making you a widow again!" The broken smile on her face shone with a warped sense of childlike awe. It was like she was a broken teenager in the body of an adult, and for a moment Hermione was more afraid of her than Voldemort.

 _She's never going to give up on seeing me dead,_ Hermione realized, _despite being related to her and a parent to her sister's child._

"They know we are out here with The Dark Lord; the Order will kill him on sight!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes widening as a giant and a werewolf cut through the trees to reach Bellatrix.

"Oh, duty calls..." Bellatrix turned away, helping organize creatures enlisted for Voldemort. Narcissa looked towards her wife, the utter look of heartbreak and fear in her face told her all that the Gryffindor needed to know.

"He's only doing this out of fear, we have to stop him. We have to get out of this fight; I can't bear to lose any more family..." Narcissa said, tears threatening to fall. Hermione cupped her cheek and reassured her. She knew that this has to end, today.

"I know, Cissy. I won't let harm come to our boy."

The corner of Narcissa’s lip raised slightly.

“ _Our_ boy?”

Hermione shrugged, nodding. She knew in that moment that she'd give her life for either her wife or son, and was oddly okay with it.

Yanking a spare button off of the robes, a cold feeling washed over the Gryffindor as her wife whispered that the disillusionment charm activated properly. Pulling out her wand, Hermione made her way into Hogwarts through the Shrieking Shack.

The first thing that Hermione noticed was that Hogwarts felt different; that this was nothing like the school she first saw from crossing the Black Lake in a boat. Even under siege by Dementors and under Umbridge's supposed rule, the school never felt this barren and dark. Hermione knew that if something had been hidden here, it would have to be in the Room of Requirement.

Once she made her way up to the seventh floor corridor, Hermione found Harry, Ron, and Fleur fly out, carrying Draco, Blaise Zabini, and Gregory Goyle out behind them on brooms.

“Draco! You're alive!” Hermione whispered, her heart in her throat.

"I **_can't believe_ **we risked our lives to save him, Harry!" Ron cried out as they got off of their brooms, and Fleur shrank them down and pocketed them as they all ran off, saying something about Nagini.

The voice of The Dark Lord boomed into the night air as magic seemed to be squeezing her marked wrist, and Hermione noticed that both Draco and Goyle were flinching in pain as he spoke. The Gryffindor realized with a cold shock of terror that The Dark Lord used his Death Eaters as magical conduits, much like any witch or wizard could use their familiar. As she massaged the aching wrist, the pain dissipated from her son and Goyle.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

As the the voice receded, Hermione cancelled the disillusionment spell and approached Draco. "Your mother sent me to come get you. We are leaving. **_Now._ **" Draco's fear quickly morphed into the classic sneer. She could tell that he was unsure how to react around the Slytherins.

"Step-Father... how did you escape?"

"Draco, your mother and I were worried! Let’s go!"

Blaise broke out in laughter, which seemed odd since Goyle was too busy trying to cower rather than bully us. _Where was Crabbe,_ Hermione wondered, _he’s always be Goyle’s side..._

Zabini strode forward, smirking.

"Oh, so the Mudblood is your new daddy... my, how the Malfoys have fallen!"

"Shut your mouth, Blaise! I..." Draco's voice wavered, "...can get us back in The Dark Lord's good graces if I hand over Potter and tell him that the Diadem he wanted was destroyed!"

The Gryffindor shot a furious glare at her son, and he instantly knew that he had fucked up.

"You do that and he'll kill all of us! You _know_ he's unstable!" Hermione knew enough to not admit it was a Horcrux in front of them.

 _But that just leaves the snake,_ Hermione realized, _Locket, Ring, Diary, Diadem, Hufflepuff thing in Gringotts... and Nagini._

"You're gonna be a good little boy and obey your _Mudblood Daddy_?" Blaise raised his wand at me, venom in his words. "Cruci-"

"NO!" Draco exclaimed, putting himself in the wand's path, making Zabini flick his wand away. It happened so fast that Hermione didn't even have time to think, yet Draco got in the way to protect her.

Anger flared up in Hermione as she realized that Draco nearly got hurt by his friend, her cheeks reddening as her eyes locked onto Blaise, whose wand was now trained directly at the young blonde.

" **_Blood Traitor!_ ** The Dark Lord will praise me for bringing back your head..." He flourished his wand to cast a dark spell at Draco.

Time slowed to a crawl as Hermione’s vision tunneled onto her target, her body seeming to move of its own accord, in pure instinct.

The Gryffindor felt separated from herself as the events unfolded.

An arm shoved Draco aside.

Wand pointed into the target’s eyes.

**"AVADA KEDAVRA!"**

Zabini collapsed, dead.

Hermione blinked as her awareness expanded, cold air hitting her lungs as she remembered to breathe. The sounds of the battle came back slowly as her eyes fixed upon Draco.

Hermione felt woozy, as if she had been woken from a deep sleep. Draco was frozen in shock while Goyle ran away, crying like a scared child.

A beat passed as Hermione snapped back into reality, and everything seemed to move just a fraction faster than reality should move. Draco was a mannequin, frozen in shock at what had befallen before him.

"Draco." Hermione’s voice cracked the air between them, yet his distant stare remained unfocused and glazed over. Hermione called his name again.

Another beat.

No response.

"You killed him." His voice was small and his eyes finally focused on the limp body on the ground; it was the voice of a child losing their innocence. Hermione didn't think he had any left, but there it was.

 _Voldemort didn't steal the last of his innocence away,_ Hermione realized, _I did._

"He threatened family." Hermione said flatly, their eyes finally meeting. Hermione knew her eyes held a cold resignation in them, and it should have scared him. It should have scared herself.

"Doesn't matter now, does it? The Dark Lord's going to win..."

" _Draco Lucius Malfoy_ , Voldemort **will** be defeated today! You can either help me do this or stay out of the way, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mum." Draco seemed a bit cowed at this.

Hermione looked at him and thought for a moment. "I promised my wife to keep you safe... so forgive me for this, okay?" Draco looked at her in confusion before she hit him square in the face with a series of jinxes and charms. Her son cradled his face in his hands and cussed before tentatively poking at his new face.

"Bloody hell, you just made me look all bruised and buggered like you did to Harry back home, didn't you?" Draco's voice was blunted by the swollen nose and mouth.

 _So he did know,_ Hermione realized, _and didn't want to hand us over._

The Gryffindor sighed, realizing it wouldn't be enough. "It's just temporary. But your blonde is going to be like a beacon..." Pointing her wand, she charmed his hair to a dark red.

"Not ginger, anything but ginger..." Draco plead, eyes tightly shut.

"Be glad you're not a witch! Now that I think about it, perhaps I could..." Hermione thought aloud, only to have him thank her and say that he'd follow her without causing any trouble.

The ghost of Nearly Headless Nick hovered in front of us. "Oh Miss Granger, how I have missed you this year at Hogwarts. I've been tasked to recruit people for triage to help Madam Pomfrey. Do you think you and... _is that Percy..._ go help with the wounded?"

Hermione nodded, taking Draco's hand to keep him silent. "Of course, Percy and I would _love_ to go help..."

"Salazar's Snake, he thinks I'm the ponciest Weasley..." Draco muttered under his breath.

Sir Nicholas nodded his thanks, drifting away and sliding through the floor to the lower level as Draco rounded on his former classmate.

"Hermione... I… didn't want any of this." Draco's voice reflecting how broken he felt. “After having seen and experienced this past year of torture, constant fear from The Dark Lord, and the bodies… the bodies… blood purity is shite.”

* * *

PANSY

Sneaking through Hogwarts with a disillusionment charm is harder than you would think, Pansy thought as she dodged and weaved her way through the crowd and panic. The Dark Lord had commanded his Death Eaters to withdraw, but Mulciber had gotten a taste for death, and looked to be on the hunt for his next meal. His disillusionment charm was almost as good as hers, but there was an obvious wake in the crowds as he made his way through the castle.

The Great Hall had been turned into a makeshift hospital wing overflow, as the number of patients she had to contend with was much more than the extension charms could handle while in a wand-fight.

“Dobby! More Dittany!” Hermione called out, cursing herself as she remembered that he had died to save her. “I mean, Winky, dittany!”

Draco was practically by her side, under heavy glamour and transfiguration charms, but his gait betrayed his true identity to Parkinson. The Malfoy Heir was singing skin back together, no doubt learned from her mentor Severus.

She realized Mulciber’s plan then; an Imperious Curse at point blank to get the Golden Girl under his control so he could _take his time_ with her.

The Death Phoenix grinned as she slid in behind her target, put her wand-tip against the front of his neck, and cast the cutting charm, slicing his neck open from side to side, blood gushing out and killing him instantly.

Pansy marked her kill, magically branding the Death Phoenix sigil to his forehead, still invisible to everyone around her.

“...Pans?” Draco whispered, sniffing the air. Hermione turned and saw the corpse mere feet away, shocked at the gruesome killing done in complete stealth. “You’re the Death Phoenix?”

“Quiet, your step-mom’s safe now. Glad to see you switched sides.”

Draco nodded as Hermione arched an eyebrow at the obvious exchange.

“Check on Snape, please.” Draco whispered, hoping his friend was still there.

* * *

HARRY

Harry, Ronald, and Fleur snuck out of the Shrieking Shack, shocked at the brutal, senseless death of Snape. Their chance to kill Nagini seemed lost as Fleur tried to plan a way to break past the line of Death Eaters, Snatchers, and Dementors in order to get another shot at killing the living horcrux.

As the reformed trio entered the Great Hall, Voldemort's voice pierced the air again.

"You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilt is a terrible waste. I, therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your debt with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me."

"You think he'll do that?" Ron asked the pair of them.

"I don't know, he hasn't killed Hermione yet and that was after she killed Lucius..." Harry replied.

Fleur snorted at that, a sound that was more bestial than elegant.

"The _crazy man_ is trying to play with your head. We fight, we kill him, he dies. And that snake, too. That is all we need to know." Fleur's conviction only sharpened at the loss of her husband, along with her human visage.

A flash of red hair went by, and Ron's knees gave out beneath him as grief knocked him to the floor.

**_"NO!"_ **

Harry caught his friend as the body of Fred Weasley was laid to rest by the bodies of Remus and Nymphadora Lupin. Ron screamed and sobbed, distraught with loss as Ginny and Molly held each other, lamenting the newly orphaned Ted Tonks.

Nodding his condolences to an awkward-seeming Percy, Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and made his way up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. He needed closure with Snape; to understand why the man would notice and mention his eyes, like every other adult had done his entire life.

* * *

PANSY

Pansy gasped at the sight of her mentor, crumpled and dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, blood freely flowing from the snake-bites covering his body. She needed to focus on her training rather than panic, and she knew it.

One of the most memorable lessons Pansy received from Headmaster Snape was Legilimency, second only to the crash course on poisons, antidotes, and antivenins.

 _“Despite the speed at which a serpent can bite, death from the venom is excruciatingly slow and painful. While most venomous serpents have anti-coagulants in their bite, exsanguination is not your primary concern. Paralysis is. It would behoove you to have the antivenin on your person for immediate dosing, which would be followed up by a blood-replenishing potion. As for_ **_which_ ** _antivenin you will need, being able to identify the species...”_

Pansy dropped all pretense, along with her disillusionment charm, as she took a knee in front of Severus, pulling the antivenin vials in his hidden inside pocket.

“Headmaster, which type was it?” She asked, forgetting that he would be unable to speak. She put her ear next to his mouth, breathing a sigh of relief as the warmth of his breath was still there.

His eyes were wide and pleading, face frozen in either shock or the paralytic setting in.

“Sorry, Sir,” Pansy apologized, raising her wand to his face, _“Legilimens!”_

‘Headmaster?’ Pansy said, pacing around in a blank room, the lights flickering in and out around her. ‘I need to know which antivenin to give you!’

The stoic form of Severus appeared before her; he was unblemished and frowning at the intruder inside his mind.

‘What are you doing here? Let me die in peace.’

Before the Potions Master, a replica of the Mirror of Erised appeared as Severus reached out to touch it, to caress whomever he saw in the reflection. As Pansy rounded to his side, she was startled to see a redhead and Auror Tonks there, smiling back at him.

Pansy bared her teeth at this, growling quietly at her mentor’s mental pity-party as she turned and slapped him across his face.

‘The mission isn’t complete, Sir! You can have your _perverted threesome fantasies_ later, now tell me what type of snake bit you!’

Rather than look cross, Sev was despondent.

‘I told Harry he had to sacrifice himself, I’m done.’

Pansy quirked an eyebrow at that, having always heard the Headmaster refer to him as ‘Potter’. Looking back at the mirror, she realized that it had to be Harry’s mother… the reason why Snape had switched sides over 16 years ago.

‘You think Lily is _looking forward_ to seeing you now, after you sent her son on a suicide mission? And why is **Auror** **_fucking_ ** **Tonks** in your Mirror of Erised?’

‘We were… involved.’ Severus replied, the lights in the dark room in his mind fading, but no longer flickering.

‘You were shagging someone who could arrest you behind her husband’s back?’ She almost admired him for the sheer nerve to do that. Almost.

‘I saw them both fall in the battle, just before… Nymphadora loved me until I betrayed them all… and accepted Moony’s proposal out of spite,’ Severus muttered, shaking his head, ‘I just want this all to be over.’

Pansy wasn’t certain how much time had passed here, but she couldn’t coddle him forever.

‘So you’re sitting on your arse in the Shrieking Shack, being passively suicidal in hopes to see two women who most likely _HATE YOU?_ Slytherin’s Snake and all his Mudblood Whores, you’ve been my bloody idol, and you will **NOT** let your legacy turn Slytherin’s name into a bunch of... _sniveling boot-lickers!’_

‘I did my part to stop The Dark Lord, Miss Parkinson. You were just the backup plan in case I failed. I did my job, _Pansy,_ now let me rest.’

‘Well, you _did_ fail, **_Severus._ ** So Harry knows your whole story now? He’s going to spread it to the Wizarding World and _everyone will know_ it was Albus’ boots you were polishing with your tongue!’

‘I don’t care anymore. Let an old man die in peace.’

Pansy scoffed at that.

‘Oh, so now you think you’re old and entitled to just die here? No, Snape, it’s more than that… you’re scared to see how this all turns out. I mean, being hated and despised was fine, but _getting praise_ for being the key war hero? You’re a coward, Sir.’

Severus flicks a glare her way before laughing bitterly.

‘Oh, you think _that’s_ going to sway me, Miss Parkinson? It doesn’t matter anymore; the venom’s paralysis is setting in. I gave up my chance to swallow the antivenin potion when I handed Harry my memories. It’s only a matter of time now. Best you see yourself out before it’s too late.’

The mirror and the image of Severus vanished from the room as the lights began to flicker again, and Pansy could tell that the walls were either dissolving or collapsing in on her.

She only had one card left to play,

‘Vinculum.’

The slow crumbling and dissolution of the room paused.

‘What was that?’

‘I’ll make a Vinculum with you, bind our essences to get you to take the antivenin potion.’

Severus reappeared, but slightly faded and transparent.

‘Oh, so I can park my face on the back of your head like Quirrell? No thanks; besides, you’d look horrid in a turban.’

Pansy grimaced at the thought.

‘Ew. No, you still have your body. I’ll just… share a bit of myself into you.’

Sev paused, his form solidifying his resolve before her.

‘That might work, but there’s the fact that I’m dying, and I could easily take you with me.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll call Fawkes to heal you.’

The Potions Master was actually surprised at that.

‘You have…? You’re the Death Phoenix… Yaxley was certain it was me betraying them all.’

The Slytherin Assassin beamed in pride.

‘Kingsley thinks that his contact _Thanatos_ is a bloke.’

‘Setting yourself up as a secret assassin for the Ministry should the Light side win?’

Pansy shrugged.

‘They are going to want certain things done discreetly; what’s more discreet than someone _already_ doing the job that they don’t want to admit needs doing?’

‘Fine, Miss Parkinson, I’ll do the Vinculum with you. I’ll warn you however, you’re going to know me deeper than anyone else, and you’d be the only person I trust to see-’

‘-you wanking to two witches at once? Yeah, sure, okay. You’ll know me as well.’

Severus gasps in pain, the lights in the room going out entirely, his voice reflecting intense pain.

 _‘Hurry…_ be ready for the soul damage…’

* * *

HERMIONE

Luna winced as Draco mended her broken bone, guilt etched in his swollen face as she thanked him. "Glad to see you're on our side finally."

"Uhm, thanks, Luna. The Ministry seemed... unusual, as of late." Draco replied, trying to affect a Percy-like demeanor.

"I know it's you, Draco. It's a good glamour, though I can tell your eyes aren't that of a Weasley. Those eyes, plus being in disguise, could only be a Malfoy here." Luna's voice was soft and forgiving, making Draco choke up slightly. There was something in the way she looked at him that was pleasant yet unsettling to him. He wasn’t ready for her forgiveness.

"Um, look, I'm really sorry-" Draco muttered, at a loss for words.

 _Oh bloody hell he's blushing,_ Hermione thought as she backed away, giving them just a bit of space as the Gryffindor made a quick inventory and saw what potions would need to be replenished.

"I know. I heard you lie to protect Harry. You were as much of a prisoner as I was there. Once this is over, I'll testify in your defense."

"You think we'll win?" Draco asks, dumbfounded. Luna glanced to me and smiled warily.

"I think we will."

* * *

HARRY

Harry made his way to meet his destiny, his death. Fleur and Ron knew to kill the snake, but he also let Neville know to go after Nagini… just in case. Harry's heart was erratic as the adrenaline was making him want to run away, as fast and as far as he could. But he knew he couldn't.

Albus and Severus had set it up perfectly.

"He won't come, My Lord. I've sent Draco in to get him..." Bellatrix said, her voice trailing into a silent scream as Voldemort tortured her recklessly.

"Do NOT presume on my behalf! EVER!" Flicking his wand outward, he sliced through a dozen robed wizards as they fell dead onto the the grass beneath them. It no longer mattered whose side you were on; if Voldemort was unhappy, you would die. Along with everyone around you.

Harry pulled his cloak off with a flourish, keeping his wand safely stowed in his sleeve. He thought to himself the final brother in the tale, and accepted death as an old friend...

"Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Come to meet your death." Voldemort intoned as Harry glanced around, noting the lack of Hermione in the group.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, and Voldemort's head turned as he searched his ranks, keeping his wand pointed at the boy.

"I am no longer concerned about the Mudblood." White eyelids narrowed over read slits, his fractured mind fighting to refocus on what he had before him. "I'm going to kill you know, Potter."

For a moment, Voldemort seemed confused at the lack of fight Harry was putting up. But he felled the Boy Who Lived all the same with the Avada Kedavra.

Narcissa was shocked at what she had seen. The Potter boy had just let himself stand there and get killed, only to see the spell rebound and knock them both out. Are they both dead? Is it over?

Before she could wonder, Voldemort began to stir. _If he was alive,_ she thought, _maybe so was Potter!_

She didn’t know why, but something within Narcissa pulled at her to protect her wife's best friend. As Voldemort waved people away from Harry Potter, Narcissa was already bending over the boy, ready to stun him and pass him off as dead. Hopefully he would understand, giving her enough time to plan an escape to then... she had no idea. One thing at a time.

"Is he dead, Narcissa?!" Voldemort asked, panic threading through his voice.

Her hand went over his chest and felt the strong, steady heartbeat. Her eyes widened in shock. She knew stunning him might still get him killed, or torn apart, or even fed to Nagini.

"Help." he whispered, realizing it was me. "Tell him I'm dead."

"Slytherin's Snake! My family, are they okay?" Narcissa whispered in a rush, not knowing how much time they might have.

"Draco's fine; Hermione... I thought she was with you..."

Narcissa's head turned, "He's dead, my Lord!" a tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't know if Hermione was okay, but would give everything just to survive the day.

* * *

HERMIONE

It was nearing the end of the cease-fire, and Hermione had been too focused on bandaging up the wounded to notice the absence of her stepson until Hermione noticed how quiet it had been. Hermione am too young to call him that. He is just Draco...

Movement at Hermione’s periphery had her jerk her eyes up, and she found herself at wand-point with Neville Longbottom.

"Where was I when you went after the Philosopher's Stone?" Neville asked coldly. Behind him was a pair of Percy Weasleys, one of them bound up in magical rope. The un-bound Percy had fewer bruises and a scowl that looked like it could be as bad as McGonagall's.

"Nev... I stunned you before your well-meaning intentions would have helped Voldemort return! Percy, let him go."

"I've seen the Daily Prophet. Usually it's all bollocks these days, but the Ministry records don't lie. You've joined their side, and this is a Death Eater!" Percy's wand wasn't raised at me, however. So far, so good Hermione guess. Draco rolled his eyes at the accusation.

"You're not just a ponce, you're a bloody idiot! I've been helping heal people here!" Draco replied, teeth clenched.

"Hermione, we can't seem to undo whatever charms you put on him. Do it. Now." Neville's face was filled with determination and authority, and for once Hermione heard the threat in his voice and grew concerned.

"Fine." Hermione relented, hoping her anger would be seen as not being ashamed for being found out, "but you will not bring any harm to Draco, is that clear?"

Percy nodded, releasing his doppelganger as Neville blinked at the admission. "You're really married to that bitch."

As Hermione took down the glamour, Draco chuckled darkly. "Dare you to say that to my mum's face and see what happens. You wanna hate my father? We'll hold a bloody convention for everyone that does." He spat the last sentence out as he stepped around the boys and came abreast of me. Us against the world? Maybe, but Hermione liked their odds.

A young boy from Hufflepuff ran up to us. His eyes were red with tears.

"Hey, Snake-face is advancing with his.. with everyone. And Hagrid's carrying Harry's... body."

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa's heart leapt as she saw Hermione and Draco finally, lining up with the Longbottom boy and the rest of the people opposing The Dark Lord. She saw that they weren't restrained and still had their wands, and breathed a momentary sigh of relief. This battle would be nothing less than a bloodbath, considering how each side considered this to be their last stand. If only she could get them and escape... but she knew Hermione would want to stay and fight.

Grim determination would make even the kindest people do the most savagely barbaric act in the hopes of survival, and she knew that both sides of the conflict would want to see either herself of Hermione dead. They would have to fight and keep fighting to be accepted, but as Narcissa laid eyes on the chestnut curls, she knew it would be worth it.

Harry had maintained his ruse as his body had been banged up for sport. They were lucky that nobody tried a severing charm to behead him, either. There were so many things that could go wrong and Narcissa had to remain calm and trust the boy to be convincingly dead.

As the Dark Lord's forces were marshaled behind him, he charmed his voice for all to hear.

"Wizards and witches, Harry Potter... is dead! Put down your wands; I do not wish to spill any more magical blood here. Lord Voldemort is merciful; no retribution will befall any purebloods that have opposed me. Draco, come back to me."

There was a tangible tension in the air as Hermione stepped forward, putting herself between the young man and The Dark Lord. The act of defiance was not missed as gasps could be heard in the silence.

"No. Cissy, come join us. And anyone else who wants to stop Voldemort!" Narcissa couldn't help but marvel at her wife's bravery.

"You dare, Mudblood? Defy me? On the Eve of my victory?" His laugh demanded all of the Death Eaters to join in as well. Few did, though. Narcissa took that moment and ran to Hermione and Draco, clasping her in reassurance while keeping their eyes trained on the enemy ranks.

"NARCISSA!" Bellatrix shouted in surprise. The Dark Lord silenced her with a spell, his red eyes narrowed in decision.

"I'll kill them all, _mudblood stud_ included. Now, anyone who.." Voldemort's speech was cut off as Neville used a voice amplifying charm.

"Hey, **_loser,_ ** we're not giving up. We stand with Harry."

"Harry Potter is dead! Who are you, boy?"

"Neville Longbottom. My parents send their regards! **DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!** " Neville raised his wand to attack, only to be bound and disarmed.

"You will fail and die."

"I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees!" Neville shouted as his bound form was levitated towards Nagini.

"So be it."

* * *

HERMIONE

Hermione’s jaw clenched as too much happened too fast. Neville was free of his bonds, the snake sprang to attack, the Sword of Gryffindor glinted as it struck. Harry disappeared as Voldemort flinched at the death of his last living horcrux.

**_"I WILL KILL YOU ALL FOR THIS!"_ **

As the killing curse flew towards Neville, he was jerked back by a very visible and very alive Harry Potter. The curse struck the Gurg of the giants, the crash of his death keeping everyone rooted in their place.

"Nobody help me, I've got to finish this myself!" Harry shouted, keeping his wand trained on Voldemort.

"He doesn't mean that, he only _lives by luck_ and by his friends sacrificing themselves for him."

"Was it _luck_ when I destroyed your diary? Luck when I overcame _your possessing me?_ Luck when you _tried_ using the killing curse on me a half hour ago? That’s twice now that you’ve tried it, **Tom.** "

" _Pure luck!_ But I have the Elder Wand, taken from Dumbledore's tomb!"

Hermione wondered why they both were just standing there talking instead of killing each other?

"How _sad, Tom_. You've turned into a petty criminal; robbing graves for the Deathstick that's not even living up to its name."

"I killed Severus, my loyal servant, who killed Albus. The wand's loyalty is to _me._ "

Harry scoffed at The Dark Lord, purposefully getting under his skin.

"I’m still alive here, **Tommy!** You've made a big mistake; Severus was never your ‘loyal servant’! He loved _my mother_ and was loyal to **avenging her death!** "

"He only desired her, foolish boy. And if the wand of destiny is not mine, then we duel on skill alone, and I will kill you."

 _Wait,_ **_Draco_ ** _disarmed Dumbledore,_ Hermione realized, _and I was chosen by Draco's wand. Is the Wand of Destiny mine?_

"I'm going to give you one last chance. Surrender and we'll make you live your sentence out in Azkaban. Show that you have remorse and you can live."

"Is this your plan, Potter? Annoy me into killing you, and then appeal to my humanity? Is this the _great power_ the prophecy spoke of?"

Hermione’s mind raced over the prophecy, having spoken with Harry to it in depth when they were alone on the run together.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._

The Gryffindor reviewed the prophecy with a new perspective.

_The power is born to those who have thrice defied him._

Hermione escaped Nagini at Christmas.

Narcissa swapped her wand for a decoy.

Draco refused to rejoin his ranks.

_Born as the seventh month dies..._

Hermione wondered what had happened in July.

As The Dark Lord and Harry circled each other as the duel was about to begin, realization hit the Gryffindor.

It wasn't _just love_ that was the power, but the melding of Gryffindor courage and Slytherin conviction. This was the power that he knew nothing of. Elbowing her wife for her attention, Hermione accepted the strength and power that came from the Compulsion. The resolve in Narcissa's face told Hermione she knew what the Gryffindor was about to do.

Draco saw the exchange, nodding as his fear was replaced with the Gryffindor ‘fuck it’ attitude that earned them the nickname “cannon fodder”.

"I’ve been looking forward to this day, Granger. Burbage shouldn't have been killed like that..."

"Draco... _Draco_ disarmed Albus." Voldemort's red eyes flicked between Harry and Hermione. He must have wondered if attempting to kill Draco would result in another rebounded curse as Narcissa and Hermione stood protectively before their son.

Hermione’s wand was trained on Voldemort, steady and sure. Narcissa's joined her wife’s, and so did Draco.

Voldemort, however, didn't look the least bit worried at having three wands drawn down at him.

"I can kill you with a mere thought, **_Mudblood._ **"

Hermione’s Ouroboros tattoo began to twist like a vice, burning and causing crushing pain all over her body, threatening her to fall to her knees. However, the whimpers of pain came from Narcissa’s lips, making the Gryffindor wonder how close the pair of them were bonded now.

"But someone got to him first, Tom!" Harry called out, distracting Voldemort and ending the torture, “Someone who possesses the other Deathly Hallows!"

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in fury as he faced The Boy who Wouldn't Stay Dead.

 _Holy fuck, Harry thinks he is the master of the Elder Wand,_ Hermione realized, _and he just said that out loud. In front of everyone to hear._

Hermione turned her head enough to see Draco's nod, his resolve as they were a family forged in dire straits, desperation, and death.

Unified, the Grangers cast the Killing Curse. 


	7. Spring of '76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to 1976, when the Andromorph potion was first invented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Odette Parkinson (née Shafiq) is not a canon character, but obviously Pansy had to have had a Pureblood mother and the Shafiq lineage is one of the un-remarked upon 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' pureblood families that was around at this time.

SEVERUS

It was a lazy Tuesday afternoon and because of the rain, most of the Slytherins were cooped up in the common room. Narcissa was sprawled sideways on a sofa seat, ankles dangling over the arm rest, as she took a hit from the joint being passed around. On her muggle record player, _Sabbath Bloody Sabbath_ was playing.

"Sev, your turn." Narcissa leaned over to pass it to him, which he took politely and passed it on, not smoking it himself.

"I wish to keep my mental acuity, but thank you." Bellatrix cackled as she took two hits from the joint before passing it on.

"Severus, are you doing homework while the rest of us are smoking grass?" Narcissa chuckled softly at the thought of that.

"No, I'm working on something else. Something new." Her ears perked up at that, and she swung her legs off of the sofa, standing over Severus' notes

"What are you trying to invent, Sev?" He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glancing at her shorter-than-regulation skirt and missing stockings. She apparently was dressing down for someone, and he could guess it wasn't for the arranged husband-to-be. Severus filed this away, knowing he'd find out eventually.

"I wanted to re-invent the Polyjuice potion; I am certain powerful wizards will pay a small ransom to have a larger…" Severus trailed off; he couldn't actually say it.

"A larger what?" With a flick of his wand, the muffliato charm was cast and they had relative privacy there.

"A larger… manhood. Engorgement charms don't always stay up under the stress of a good shag, and…" His words were cut off by an eager Narcissa.

"Now how do you know that?" Severus' lips pressed together as he fought himself from blushing. "When did it happen?"

"Over Christmas break. Lily and I were caught under some mistletoe and the muggle tradition calls for a kiss, but apparently she and I both wanted to do more than just that. Don't… please don't let that spread around the school."

"I won't tell a soul. She's a Mudblood, but she makes you happy." There was no scorn or animosity in her words; the term was simply what was used when in the Slytherin Common Room.

"Yes, I wanted to impress her and the spell didn't work for long. When it ended, she was still quite impressed. And it's that insecurity that all men have that will find me my fortune." Narcissa copied the Arithmancy from the book and projected it in the air in front of her, picking apart the values to understand the problem.

"So this is to only alter one specific area of a person." Narcissa went over the eigenvalues, modified the variable for the recipient, and re-solved the equation.

The prediction lines went from a haywire mess to a standard curve. Severus was surprised and thanked her for proving that his potion would (theoretically) work.

"I was trying to account for the sex of the recipient, when really that's a spurious value. Apparently all that matters is the ingredients, the brewing process, and the genetic donor."

At that, Narcissa stilled. "Does this work of off a hair from their head? I've always wondered if Slughorn could see his own willy…"

Severus winced at the thought. "It does require a hair, but... from a different region. From what I can tell, this will only change the morphology of the flesh and not change the actual genetic material that the man has. The last thing I need is a flock of owls coming to me for paternity lawsuits."

Narcissa thought carefully about that. "Who is volunteering their hair for this trial? And who will test it?"

Severus shrugged. "I can't test it myself; there would be no change. And I doubt I can find any bloke around here willing to drop their trousers and pants for science."

Narcissa giggled at that. "I suppose I could try it." She said, her mind plotting away already.

"…but you are a witch. You don't have…"

"Arithmancy doesn't lie. The potion should work fine for me. Besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to have one and shag a witch."

Severus looked at her skeptically, but understood that this would definitely prove the viability of his potion.

* * *

NARCISSA

Later that month, Narcissa was reviewing her notes for NEWT exams while Severus carefully watched his cauldron simmer and took copious notes on his observations.

"Almost done, Sev?" Narcissa asked, glad to have the excuse to be away from Lucius' egotistical attitude.

"It is currently cooling and I am ensuring that there are no unexpected changes in the color or consistency. But once this is done, I shall add the hair," He pointed to a silver plate that held a single short hair upon it, "and then it is done. The stock of potion should have a shelf-life of a month once opened."

Narcissa checked her pocket-watch and smirked knowingly. Severus ignored her as he carefully decanted the potion into a spherical bottle and added the hair, causing the potion to change to a light grey.

"Alright Narcissa, go ahead and take a sip and let me know how it tastes…"

"…I bet you ask all of the girls to have a taste…" Narcissa interjected, taking the potion away from him.

"…so we can measure the time it takes for it to take full effect as well as if there was any loss when compared to the original."

Narcissa arched an eyebrow at her friend.

"Do blokes really pull theirs out and compare? No wonder I only fancy the fairer sex."

Sev shook his head with a roll of his eyes.

"It's for science, Cissy. I want to have all that data I can gather-"

Narcissa took the potion to her lips and took a healthy swig. "Tastes better than most potions, but I'm gonna go give it a real tryout, though!" And with that, Narcissa pulled her broom out of bookbag and flew out of the room and into the castle, leaving Severus in confusion.

It was easy enough for Narcissa to navigate the halls on broom-stick. It was technically forbidden, but most prefects looked the other way for her, particularly on a weekend. Once she got to the First Floor, she flew into the first unused classroom and flew out of the unlocked window.

It was times like this when she felt free; free of proper Pureblood expectations, free of family obligations, and free of having to be the prim and proper girl that Abraxas Malfoy would expect of his future daughter-in-law.

Here, Narcissa was able to determine where she would go next. Only her. And right now, all she wanted to do was to fly up to her lover's window and see Odette.

Swooping down towards a nearby tree, Narcissa summoned a few of the acorns and caught them as she flew up to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

ODETTE

It seemed silly to be inside on a day like this, but this was ironically the only place where Odette could find solace from the Marauders and their prank-riddled rampage throughout the school. She assumed that the common room was declared 'off limits' only because Lily had asked James to lay off there.

She heard a clicking noise and looked to the window, expecting an owl attempting to make a delivery. She instead faced an exuberant Narcissa Black waving her to come to the window. Odette blushed at the antics that Narcissa would go to at length to impress her, and opened the window to let the witch in.

"No, come on out here, I can fly both of us on this broom." Narcissa said flirtingly, holding her broom handle suggestively. Odette rolled her eyes but laughed as she looked around the common room, made sure nobody noticed her, and she stepped out of the window.

The cushioning charm worked perfectly as Narcissa took control of the broom and sailed over the school grounds and made their way to the boathouse. A quick peck on her cheek told her that Narcissa was in a playful mood and up to something. It made the Gryffindor squirm a little on the broom in anticipation, when an unfamiliar sensation alerted her to the difference.

"Cissy… what is… that?" Odette asked curiously. In the distance, she could see a few students on the trail that lead to Hogsmeade. Otherwise, the grounds to the school were oddly empty.

"Oh my, Miss Shafiq, don't you want to be surprised?" Narcissa took the broom down low enough for their feet to graze the ground. Odette hopped off as Narcissa dismounted and the pair ran into the empty boathouse. Dropping the broom and a quick notice-me-not charm later, the two girls were hungrily kissing each other as if starving for it.

"Is that real? Or did you do some sort of transfiguration?" Odette asked, feeling the firm flesh pressing against her.

"Modified potion, it will only last an hour unfortunately." Narcissa smirked coyly. Odette's adrenaline was still high from the flight, and before she could stop herself Narcissa reached forward, captured her lover's face in her hands, and brought their lips together in a heated kiss.

"Only an hour? Whatever shall we do?" The Gryffindor retorted playfully.

Odette was naturally a head shorter than Narcissa, but they made it work to their advantage. Narcissa kicked off her shoes and Odette was on the tips of her toes as the two witches savored each others' lips with reckless abandon. In fact, the difference in size made it easier for Narcissa to pick up and carry her lover, which was what usually happened as the Gryffindor and Slytherin remained in their lip-lock.

Odette nipped Narcissa's earlobe, eliciting a gasp. Green eyes shone as the Gryffindor apparently had ideas of her own. "Did you cast the repelling charms so we could have some privacy?" Narcissa nodded in affirmation as Odette gave the Slytherin a coy smile as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her lover's pants and pulled them down as she knelt in front of her.

Narcissa looked down only to see an odd puckering in her Hogwarts skirt, impressed with the the size and girth made possible by the so-called Half Blood Prince. Odette's fingers trailed up her skirt teasingly and took a gentle grip on the shaft, lust glazing over her eyes as her lover explored the new appendage.

"So... one hour? I think we can make this work..." Odette smirked as she hiked the skirt up and made a soft swipe of her tongue on her lover's tip.

Narcissa gasped in response. "Trust me, I'm definitely going to make this work. Um... do that again..." The Slytherin gulped in anticipation.

Coyly, Odette complied. She slowly began with the barest trace of tongue around the glans, slowly getting her lips to cover the shaft as she looked up to meet blue eyes. A heavy shudder of breath later and Narcissa's hands were grasping the Gryffindor's head and urging her to go deeper.

Odette giggled at her lover's insistence. "Miss Black, do you wish for me to continue?"

"Slytherin's... Please!"

"I am to please..." Odette's hands clutched onto Narcissa's hips, helping steady herself as the other witch began to rock her hips back and forth. Narcissa looked down and had to marvel at the situation before her; a Gryffindor willingly pleasing her on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of the boat house.

Narcissa knew exactly how she wanted Odette and wasn't shy about getting it. "Miss Shafiq, turn around and get on your hands and knees." The tone she took left no doubt that this was not an idle request.

"Yes, Miss Black..." came the teasing reply. Narcissa stepped out of the undergarment left at her ankles and cast a stinging hex on her lover's arse before vanishing her own pants. The yelp of surprise was music to her ears as Narcissa cast a perfect Incarcerous, letting the rope bind Odette to the posts where the boats were tied up. Odette obligingly struggled against the restraints for show as her arms were splayed outwardly and her ankles were fastened loosely to the tie-posts.

"At least you gave me a nice view of the lake from this angle." Odette replied, wiggling her bum teasingly at the Slytherin.

"Don't tempt me to take points away from Gryffindor..." Narcissa replied, effecting the sour attitude and persona of Madame Pince. More than a few times they had nearly been caught snogging in the library by her, and they were pretty certain that the Librarian knew about them. The Black girl knelt behind her restrained girlfriend and gripped her shaft, preparing to fuck her for the first time like this.

"Oh no! Anything but that..." Odette giggled, "I'll be a good Gryffindor." She felt a stinging hex strike her bum, and the Gryffindor moaned at the pleasurable pain. Her lover flipped up her skirt and saw her mons was wet enough that it dripped down onto the wooden dock beneath them.

"And I'll be a good Slytherin..." Narcissa replied, slipping her own sex inside that of her lover's for the first time. It was exquisite; the first sensation was a long, slow embrace of heat tightening around her length that was matched with a primal grunt of satisfaction.

The Slytherin pulled out, waited for her to whimper, and quickly thrust herself back in. She was being cruel, all for the sounds she could make the petite girl make while bound and at her mercy. Odette craned her head back as Narcissa continued to delve into her, their lips craving contact with each other as the shagged relentlessly in the boathouse. The Slytherin leaned in and tried to kiss her, all while keeping up the same tempo that made her lover's face rock slightly and that much harder to kiss.

"Merlin, Cissy..." Odette moaned, trying her best to rock back into the onslaught pounding her. Their rhythm was synchronized and they were as one for a bit, both lost in passion and looking to become undone with each other. Narcissa was almost too far gone to realize that her lover's muscles were pulsating as her legs were going shaky, along with the tell-tale ragged breathing signaled that she was about to orgasm. The Slytherin did notice it however, and therefore she took the time to fuck Odette harder.

Odette's head was thrown back in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure peaked within her and had her screaming Narcissa's name. The Gryffindor went limp in her restraints as Narcissa enjoyed herself and felt her own body prepare to climax.

* * *

 

NARCISSA

"What was that, love?" Narcissa asked, unsure if Odette was able to even speak right now.

"Cissy... my god..." The girl couldn't stay coherent as she sagged bonelessly, leaving the ropes as the only support to hold her up.

As the two witches cuddled mid-coitus, Narcissa took a fist-full of her lover's hair near the back of her head and tugged sharply. Neither of them saw the boat pulling into the boathouse that held the Gryffindor Prefects Arthur and Molly, absolute horror etched on their faces.

"I'm going to fuck you 'till I come, Gryffindor." The Slytherin teased, increasing her rhythm as she pounded away at her lover.

Blue wand-fire incapacitated the Blonde witch as Molly set to rescuing her housemate, ignoring everything that Odette was attempting to stammer out in a hurried rush.

The last thing Narcissa remembered before being knocked out was the look of absolute rage on the otherwise gentle Arthur Weasley.


	8. Perestroika

HERMIONE

Hermione didn't know what to expect, really. As The Dark Lord lay dead, the utter shock and surprise wanted to keep her rooted to the ground. She didn’t expect it to happen so easily; despite seven years of hearing about this monster, and the cold war that finally erupted in their year on the run, it was all over. Voldemort was dead.

In fact, the entire field of armed witches and wizards had been halted at this, just for a few seconds, as everyone wondered if that had just actually happened.

Reality should have slowly trickled in, just enough so that Hermione could handle it, a little bit in every fraction of a second. Instead it was utter chaos. Instant, utter chaos.

The firefight didn't just resume like before; the two sides were desperately trying to massacre everyone else out of sheer panic and self-preservation. Fighters on both sides were being mowed down as lethal rainbows of hectic spell-fire lit up the early dawn. Jinxes and curses ricocheted off of each other, causing many to divert from their original path and leaving nobody safe, even if they were shielded and taking physical cover.

The centaurs who had tried to stay neutral in this war, stood at the edge of the Dark Forest, were halved by a cutting hex and an explosion curse hitting the densest part of their group. The remaining half ran into the woods, only to be overrun by the acromantula spiders, easily outnumbering them as pincers made quick work of them. Firenze, having been rejected by the herd, held his head in shame over at Hagrid's hut, as if he had been cursed with having known this moment had been coming for years. Was there something to that whole divination thing after all?

A cold gust spread over the battlefield as the stars themselves were blotted out of the sky, while tingling dread swept over everyone at the same moment as the Dementors, no longer kept in check by Voldemort, saw a feast of souls before them.

"MOVE IT!" Narcissa grabbed Draco and her wife by their wrists,  pulling them away from the open battlefield. Draco had flicked his wand, raising a shield in time to make a sickly squelch as the offensive spells hit and were deflected.

Hermione turned to see Bellatrix scrambling, face frozen in fear as she crawled on her knees towards her fallen master, eyes betraying the lack of sanity behind them.

"Accio Elder Wand!" Hermione whispered, knowing her wand would come when summoned. The demented-looking witch saw it flying towards the Gryffindor as she apparated away, holding fast onto Voldemort’s remains.

_What was she going to do with the corpse?_

Hermione’s eyes darted to her right wrist, where the Ouroboros mark faded, but did not disappearing. She made a mental note to compare it to Draco's Dark Mark later on.

The Giants and the Dementors seemed to still want to fight, as they were willing to kill everything in front of them, including the Death Eaters. Souls were getting sucked out of what must have been Voldemort’s shock troops, as at least a quarter of them had turned on the Death Eaters behind them, many of them seeming to have just thrown off an Imperius Curse… one by one, however, they dropped as the Dementors gobbled up souls left and right.

Hermione turned to finally face the owner of the hand that had pulled her to safety when she saw Narcissa's arms wrapped tightly around her son.

"Draco, you're okay! Let's get out of here..."

Draco pulled away, eyes wildly scanning the battlefield.

"No mum, _innocent people_ are still here and getting hurt! We're helping them; it's what Hermione would do."

Draco's shield charm finally collapsed as an errant spell ricocheted off of it. Narcissa's face flashed in panic and anger as she grabbed him by the back of his robes, pulling him away from the fight even harder. Even as she tugged him off-balance, he threw another shield up as a hailstorm of stunners were being shot right at us by a masked Death Eater.

"If she wants to just stand here like a _stupid Gryffindor and die_ , let her!" Narcissa's words flew out instantly, and she doubled over in pain as the Compulsion took its proverbial pound of flesh. A stream of blood poured from her nose as she forced herself upright to her usual Pureblood Ice-Queen stature.

"Sorry, Hermione..."

Instinctively, Hermione was already casting the episkey charm on her wife while scouring the battlefield for hostile targets to disable. Narcissa’s eyes narrowed as her own spell took effect, twisting her wand with a vicious flick that could only be Severus’ levicorpus. In the distance, a Death Eater flew into an ambush of Dementors that had no mercy as they greedily sucked down his soul.

“Raping bastard…” Narcissa muttered, seething.

As the trio stood side-by-side, casting whatever spells, jinxes, and hexes to stop the Death Eaters and their allies from slaughtering everyone, a gust of displaced air tickled the back of Hermione’s neck as the tell-tale sound of fire roared overhead.

“DRACO, DID THEY HAVE BLOODY DRAGONS?!” Hermione screamed over the wand-fire.

Fleur hovered overhead, hands alit with flame as she lobbed fireballs into the fray.

" _What are you still doing here?_ You're getting attacked by **both sides!** " Fleur bit viciously, slamming fireballs in front of some of the Hogwarts defenders, "LEAVE THE GRANGERS BE! They killed You-Know-Who!"

Hermione turned around to see what was going on, having to dodge a bright blue ball of spellfire that was coming right for her head.

_Why are they targeting me? This is what the muggles call friendly fire, right?_

"All I know is that she's with the **_Malfoys,_ ** and they shot You-Know-Who in the back. Not about to let them do the same to me!" Hermione’s heart chilled at the sound of vehement disgust in Dean's voice. They had worked together on Defensive techniques in Dumbledore's Army, yet now he was treating her like the enemy.

"You don't want to do this, Dean. Lower your wand..." Narcissa urged, putting herself between her wife and the young wizard.

"Hermione, we've got a werewolf pack coming from the west…" Draco warned, pulling her attention away from the imminent duel before them. Hermione didn't want to look away in case her wand was needed, but they had an equally important problem closing fast: Fenrir was shifting into his beast form outside of the Full Moon.

Fleur took flight, throwing down fireballs that Fenrir easily evaded due to the distance. A jet of purple light blasted through her left wing, knocking her out of the sky and thumping hard as the Veela slammed onto the ground.  

The fall was no more than 20 or 30 meters, but the snap on impact told the Gryffindor that she'd be out of the fight for the rest of the day.

"Granger..." she wheezed, "grab your shit and go..." A wet, slick cough that aspirated blood told Hermione that the blonde would need a mediwitch sooner than later. She averted her eyes a moment too late as she saw blood spatter on her friend's face and mouth; it was almost too much for her to bear.

Dean, however, wasn’t deterred by the Veela trying to protect the Golden Girl.

"...no bloody way am I going to trust a fucking Malfoy... **_RELASHIO!_ **"

Dean Thomas' spell never hit, however, and Hermione simply knew that Narcissa had her back and must have deflected it. The Gryffindor knew she’d have to trust her wife as she kept rapid-firing stunners and took down a few of the werewolves while Draco’s shielding prowess deflected all of the the hexes coming towards them.

In the panic of battle, Hermione’s hand was itching to pull out and use The Elder Wand, but she didn't want to advertise the fact that she held mastery over it like Harry just did.

_No need to make myself a bigger target._

"I’m not a Malfoy anymore, Dean. And I _know_ your father wouldn't be happy with you attacking the very people who struck down The Dark Lord." Narcissa's voice was edgy; she was using an uncharacteristically large amount of restraint with him.

"What do you know of my father? **_I barely even knew him!"_ ** Dean's angry voice was punctuated by his spell-work getting slightly shoddier, which Hermione noticed as she took a quick glance backwards.

"Dean, **stop it!** My wife isn't even attacking you! We’ve got _werewolves_ approaching!" Hermione shouted, redoubling her efforts to at least trip the werewolf leader before he got too close. Gritting her teeth, she let her anger leak into her magic as she switched from the stunner spells to the one she used at Gringott's.

" **FIRE!** SLYTHERIN'S... **_I'M ON FIRE!"_ ** Draco shrieked, quickly changing the type of shield he had up, snuffing out the flame to a slight smolder on his outer robes. The air felt oddly cool and moist around them, despite Hermione was pouring molten lava from her wand and laid down a type of fiery moat between themselves and the werewolves. Greyback stopped in his tracks while his minions crashed into each other, the closest ones shrieking in agony as they couldn't stop in time and fell into the molten rock, screaming into silence as the intense heat and fire suffocated them as they roasted live.

 _Serves them right for siding with Voldemort,_ Hermione thought darkly, _they all should burn in hell._

“Step-mum… GRANGER! Put it away!” Draco whispered, alerting his step-mum to notice the Elder Wand in the brunette’s left hand.

Hermione quickly re-sheathed it, not remembering when she had pulled it out in the battle. She looked at Draco and questioned why she was being so loyal to him and his mother, how her shift in loyalties happened overnight, ending the war with The Dark Lord.

 _Voldemort… his name is VOLDEMORT,_ Hermione panicked, _why am I calling him The Dark Lord in my mind??_

A high pitched shriek made pulled Hermione out of her thoughts and saw Narcissa bleeding as a cutting hex sliced through her wand warm, the Slytherin Ice Queen switching the wand to her left hand to put up a last-minute shield towards Dean.

Hermione slammed the Sectumsempra curse across her fellow Gryffindor’s chest as instinctive as a viper’s strike, followed by a knockback jinx that put him flat on the ground, her boot stomping directly on the free-flowing wound and wand-tip trained between his eyes.

" _NEVER_ . **AGAIN**." Hermione growled, her hand trembling with anticipation to just end the life of the miserable wizard who attacked her family.

 _It would be oh so easy..._ Hermione thought… _pull out the Deathstick and let it happen..._

"Hermione, NO!" Narcissa said fearfully. " _His father was a good man..._ Bella and Dolph were supposed to recruit the Pureblood, but he refused and was killed. You BOTH need to stop."

Hermione lowered her wand and looked back to where Fenrir had been advancing, only to see that he was now gone. Her jaw was clenched and she could feel her pulse heavy and quick from the adrenaline. The look sheer horror in Dean's eyes and pale face shocked Hermione back into clear thinking.

“Move, Granger…” Draco muttered, already singing the skin back together.

“Where did Fenrir go?” Hermione asked, trying to understand what was going on in her head.

"He disapparated. Bloody coward." Draco spat, almost done healing Dean, who was shocked and terrified at what just happened.

Narcissa put up a new shield, and took the moment to pocket the Gryffindor’s wand in precaution before addressing her wife.

"Hermione, you done trying to make your friend bleed to death?"

“Sorry… I’m sorry, just… you okay, Dean?” Hermione’s voice was pleading for forgiveness, her hand out to help her housemate up.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Hermione shook her head and shrugged, truly uncertain about herself for the first time ever.

* * *

PANSY

The Death Phoenix downed the Calming Draught to still her shaking hands as she stayed perched, disillusioned from the Astronomy tower. The mission wasn’t over yet, and the soul-shredding pain from the Vinculum would remain with her for as long as her life-force was the only thing keeping Severus alive as the antivenin fought back against Nagini’s multiple bites.

The pain was something she had been trained to ignore, but the sensation of ants crawling on the inside of her skin was completely unexpected. The bit of Severus inside her was looking for his own body, fighting any attempt to integrate with the new host.

She knew that a part of herself was in the Headmaster, fighting similarly. _At least he got to sleep through it with the Soulgament Potion,_ Pansy thought darkly. Unlike how a Horcrux is a piece of soul torn off and detached, used to staple one’s essence on this side of reality, the Vinculum is the consensual sharing of souls, a kind of bonding that muggles have nicknamed ‘twin flame’. The Headmaster would never be her soulmate, but they would feel almost as connected.

“Focus, Parkinson.” She chided herself, pushing the pain and sensations aside.

The Slytherin had a sniper’s view of the entire battlefield as Fawkes soared through the battle, wingtips glowing in the darkness as he marked targets for his new magical partner.

The Phoenix cried out as he set himself aflame, disappearing and reappearing in different locations on the battlefield, setting Death Eaters and Dementors alike on fire in his wake. He popped in and out again, talons bared and clawing into a werewolf, pulling it off the ground and flinging it into the hoard of acromantula spiders, knocking them back and crushing about a half dozen of them.

“Good boy… definitely getting a rabbit tonight.” Parkinson mused, putting the extendable omniocular over her right eye, the other end already attached to the end of her wand. She focused with a slow calming breath, closing her left eye to only see out the tip of her wand with the extreme magnification. Pansy had a list of hard targets to take out before she whistled, the signal to her new familiar to come back and begin the final stage of the battle.

_“Avada-_

* * *

HERMIONE

The fight was still going on all around, and the acromantulas were beginning to swarm the battlefield. In the distance, Harry and some Order members were beating back the Dementors with their own phalanx of Patronuses. They were about to be outflanked and overrun by the giant spiders when the House-Elves ran into the field, armed with knives and whatever they could get a hold of to slaughter the incoming arachnids.

A flash of fire caught Hermione’s eye as Fawkes flew over the enemy lines, dive-bombing and dropping something before pulling up and disappearing in a flash of flame.

_Pop, boom, pop._

The fiery bird did this, over and over, as the Death Eaters, Snatchers, and Werewolves dropped all over, charmed to a deep sleep. Overhead, the symbol of a phoenix rising from the ashes, clutching a jawless skull in its talons shone in bright purple.

“The Death Phoenix!”

“Did he kill them all?”

“What the _bloody hell_ just happened?!” Hermione wondered aloud as narcolepsy swept over the battlefield like a tidal wave, a purple haze floating above them all as the remaining werewolves and spiders were easily dispatched since the opposing fighting force dropped to nothing.

"Kreacher?" Hermione asked, and he popped right in front of me.

"Friend of Harry Potter, finishing Master Regulus' duty of destroying the locket, and defeating The Dark Lord... I am at your service." His bow was an awkward, stuttering nod of his head. "Mistress Black would not approve, but perhaps she was mistaken about the pale man..."

"You got the other elves to fight. I, uh… thank you for protecting Harry from the spiders."

"House-elves usually avoid Wizard battles, but Kreacher learned from Dobby that some rules ought be... _changed_."

Draco had an arm around Dean while Narcissa helped revive Fleur. "Bubble head charm, now."

It didn’t take long, but the side of Light all figured out the purple fog covering the battlefield was a potent, vaporized sleeping potion.

The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed over the field. "Okay, they are going to be out for at least three hours. Bind the known Death Eaters, snap their wands, and we’ll have an Auror take custody of them. Enemy combatants who don't have the Mark might be under the Imperious Curse, but we should confiscate their wands and bind them as well. Let's get our injured looked at in the Infirmary. Anyone got medical training?"

A few hands went up, including Narcissa’s. Kingsley nodded, "Alright, you all go help Poppy in the Hospital Wing and Great Hall. I'll get medi-witches from St. Mungo's here to do triage as soon as possible, but we're probably going to also need more Potions." Narcissa looked to Hermione, nodded knowingly, and set off with Fleur by her side.

Draco shot some sparks in the air, and magnified his voice as well. "I can access the Potions lab and start on those. Dean, wanna help?" Dean looked at him shiftily, but nodded his consent to go with him.

Kingsley sighed deeply. "Alright, looks like we all know what to do; either help the injured, or tie up the enemy and send them off to Azkaban for a trial. Let's roll."

**_A trial?!_ **

Hermione was livid at the idea.

“These people _infiltrated the Ministry_ , took power, and destroyed families and _killed thousands of Muggle-borns and Muggles_ and we're going to play the part of nice guys and give them fair trials for them to claim innocence due to the **_Imperio_ ** and get away with it?!”

Shacklebolt's jaw was clenched at her comment.

“We will still respect the rule of law, Granger.”

Hermione crossed the battlefield, binding the witches and wizards that weren't dressed like snatchers or Death Eaters, spitting mad over Shacklebolt's misguided mercy.

She came across a masked Death Eater and pulled the mask off, exposing the sleeping face of Dolohov.

 _Antonin Dolohov. The bastard that nearly killed me in the Department of Mysteries_.

The scar on her chest made by him twinged, her magic urging her to exact lethal revenge. The Gryffindor closed her eyes and grit her teeth.

“This isn’t right; this isn’t me. I’ve been… affected by Malfoy Manor somehow.”

Hermione instead bound the man beneath her, summoned the wand out of his hand, and relished stomping on it and feeling the thin shaft of wood break beneath her foot.

“You’ll never carve anyone up again.”

"Hermione?" A voice called out behind her, the sound almost an errant buzz that she shook off.

Her hand had automatically switched wands, the Deathstick was pointed directly at his prone, sleeping face. It was beckoning her to be used, telling her that she had to mean it.

"Hermy!" A hand clasped Hermione’s wrist and pulled her away from her prize.

"Hermy-own-knee, no! _Don't become them!_ " Viktor exclaimed, looking relieved and genuinely happy to see her. The relief on his face and boyish grin made Hermione smile back automatically, feeling a bit odd at the surprise reunion.

“Vik-”

Her words were cut off by his lips kissing hers. It was Viktor, her first crush, first dance, first kiss... his lips were as firm as ever as his strong hands delicately held her at the small of her back, making the Gryffindor moan into the reconnection.

Hermione pulled back, eyes wide in shock. His shoulders were broad and his muscles finally filled him out... her heart twitterpated as she took him in again and remembered how handsome he was.

"Vikky... I..." She wasn’t certain what to say, _‘I’m married to Narcissa since I killed Lucius’_ seemed to be bad form. Hermione sighed and bit her lip nervously.

"Are you still ing-volved with the Weasley boy from zhe vedding?" He asked apologetically.

Hermione shook her head, openly scoffing at the idea. "Ronald? No..." For the longest time she thought he was going to ask her out, but instead he ran away from her and Harry when they needed him the most. It was a betrayal of trust that she knew she could never truly forgive him for, much less grow to love him had he the courage to ask her out.

"Is there another wizard in your life, then?" Viktor's hopeful smile was disarming. "I haff missed you, Her-own-knee." Hermione smiled at that guiltily.

_He’s handsome, I like him, and Narcissa did say I could have a discrete wizard as a lover..._

Shame flooded through Hermione at the thought; she couldn't stand to see someone else be the reason why there's a smile on Narcissa’s face, so it would be wrong for her to be considering this at all.

_If I was going to demand her be monogamous to me, I should have to do the same for her. But is this a healthy way to look at it, to either be happy or miserable together? What if I still am attracted to men in ways that Narcissa can't be?_

"No, not a wizard... but..." Hermione stammered, uncertain how to respond. Luckily, she was saved by Kingsley and Percy quickly approaching.

"Oh, Hermione, you got Dolohov here! Good..." Percy nodded nervously, his eyes fixated on Hermione’s tattooed wrist. "Good job." Hermione shrugged her sleeve down to cover it up. Kingsley missed the exchange entirely while Percy kept a wary eye on the Gryffindor.

"Very good indeed, Hermione. Percy, would you portkey him to Azkaban with the others for trial?"

Fury flew through her. "You're actually going to go through doing these trials? They’ll just claim it was the Imperio and get away with murder again!" Kingsley's hand clapped her on the shoulder and lead them away from the others.

"Hermione, we're arresting everyone who took the mark, and they all will get their fair day in court. If we don't follow our laws and traditions, then what good are we?" His way of saying 'we' bothered me.

"Is the Order in charge of the Ministry now?"

Kingsley nodded.

"I've been named temporary Minister of Magic until we can have elections, and I’ve put Order members in key positions of power until then. We'll flush out the Purebloods, and make certain we improve where the Ministry failed before; we'll be driving a strong pro-muggleborn agenda to remove all power from Pureblood interests."

"I'm sorry, Minister," Hermione added as much venom as she could spit into it, "but I didn't take down one secret society that ruled over the Ministry just to put another one in its place.” She pulled back her sleeve to show him the Ouroboros mark, “The Dark Lord Forced this mark on me; am I to be the next example of _Ministry Justice?_ ”

"Hermione." His voice was trying to authoritative yet reassuring. "This is just an emergency measure; we have to try and stabilize the Wizarding World and rebuild our society. Of course you’re not going to be treated like the Death Eaters, _you’re one of us._ "

"And the best way to do that is to NOT allow one brand of Fascism to replace another!" Hermione sniped, turning her eyes away from him. "We have to learn to co-exist, and help the Purebloods by reducing the number of Squib births!"

In the further edges of the battlefield, a dozen or so goblins where pick-pocketing the unconscious wizards.

_What in Merlin's name were they doing?_

"Now see here, I've read the records and I can tell you've been under… _an incredible ordeal lately_ so I'm going to forgive-" Hermione stepped out towards the goblins, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Kingsley, the goblins... they are taking up wands." Her mind went back to Professor Binns' classes... after every major Wizarding War would be a goblin rebellion; they would stay out of the fights and attack when wizard-kind was at its weakest and trying to rebuild.

"What? Oh, the goblins. They're probably just robbing the bodies for galleons. _Disgusting._ As I was saying, while we're in control of the Ministry, we can wield the power that it has and annul your... 'marriage', as it were." Hermione didn't like the way he said it, as if the idea of her being married to her was disgusting.

He really doesn't see what's going on, does he? She knew she’d need to tell Harry, perhaps he’d be able to raise attention to this potential threat.

"Wait... you can annul my marriage?"

 _What will happen to Narcissa,_ Hermione wondered, _and why have I never thought of this as a possible solution?_ She knew that should should have at least considered the thought that there had to be a way to undo this. The fact that that she couldn't even conceive of the idea of annulment unnerved her.

_Perhaps it was the immediate worry of the war, and the need to defend my wife and son-_

_NO!_ Hermione mentally cut through the thoughts, wondering how her mind had changed so much in only three days. _I’m not old enough for a son, this is too much, I need time to…  know who I am._

Hermione reviewed the last 48 hours; she killed Lucius, Blaise Zabini, Voldemort, and had sex with Narcissa Malfoy, mother to her childhood bully.

Kingsley didn’t seem to notice the mental quandary going on in Hermione’s mind as he continued to speak.

"-wizards and witches end their unions all the time." He shrugged absently, "It shouldn't be any different, in theory."

"Okay, yeah, let's do that! I mean, what would it entail? The Ministry can undo the Bonding, _including_ the attached Compulsion, right?"

His jaw dropped at that.

"I... well... we can _legally recognize_ the... dissolution... but the Bonding and the associated Compulsion Curse has gone out of vogue for that reason. This is precisely the kind of _‘Pureblood Traditions’_ that we’ll ban, okay?" He flashed an uncertain smile. "At the very least, an annulment will keep you from being monetarily penalized alongside the Malfoys for their war crimes."

Panic flooded through Hermione; she knew that her mind and her libido had been irrevocably twisted to show lust and loyalty to Narcissa. She wanted freedom for both herself and Narcissa, yet the Ministry was planning on putting her family on trial...

"You sound too certain of their guilt to even **have** a fair trial for them, _Minister._ Lucius is dead, and Narcissa and Draco helped me **kill** Voldemort! We LITERALLY saved the _bloody world_ from him and this is the thanks we get?"

"Hermione, you must know that Narcissa and Draco collaborated with You-Know-Who, hosted him in their manor; and as her, um, husband, the financial penalties and restitution will hit you as well." He took a gentler tone. "I’m sorry, but that’s how the law will read it. We are going to need you to essentially revoke all claim to the family and to publicly disown them."

Kingsley smiled in a way that he must have thought wasn’t patronizing. "Don’t worry. I'll help walk you through this; Merlin knows we never expected a witch to claim the Rite of Succession and to take the wife as her own..."

" ** _I want my life back, Kingsley!_ ** I didn't _choose_ to take Narcissa as a lover!" Hermione’s outburst shocked him into silence.

"You've not... _consummated..._ have you?" His face was grave at the word ‘lover’.

Hermione’s face went red at his puritanical judgment.

"The things I _may or may not_ have done with her are none of your business!"

Viktor had his hand on Hermione’s wand-arm, and she had to fight the urge to elbow him away. For some reason, it mildly reminded her of how testy Ronald was when it was his turn to wear the cursed locket. She made a note to research personality changes due to exposure to Dark Magic, and cross-reference the history of the Elder Wand.

"I think you can do some good helping vith potions for the Hospital Wing." Hermione nodded her agreement as they headed back towards the castle. The strewn-about rubble was getting cleaned up by loyal house-elves as everyone who was still able-bodied was being impressed to help tend to the wounded.

"So you are married, but to a Pureblood witch?" Viktor asked, “I had no idea dat was possible.”

"Um, yeah. It just kind of happened on accident."

He smiled at that; Hermione looked at her ex questioningly, wondering how this news would please him.

"Then all is well. Purebloods marry for power but take on lovers for pleasure. When I have to be married, my wife and I will have… similar arrangement." Any desire Hermione had for the man was instantly doused in ice water.

"That's _disdainful_. Why marry in the first place if you won’t be monogamous?"

"Hermione, I’m confused. Do you love Narcissa? Or is it simply a Pureblood arrangement that you have to deal vith?"

Hermione paused at the question. _I don't love her, but I'm not about to abandon them if they are going to be thrown in Azkaban._

"It's complicated."

“You love someone, or you don’t. Dat is not complicated.”

“I didn’t _consent_ to being married to her; I inherited her by killing Lucius in a duel.”

“Oh.” Viktor looked like he was having quantum physics explained to him. “Then why remain married to her?”

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa was glad that she got her license in mediwizardry after all; though Lucius refused to see her soiling her hands with “a menial job” when she should instead be a _proper housewife_ and have at least half a dozen children, she wanted to have something to show for her six NEWT's. That was, before her hands were bloodstained as the wife of a Death Eater. Now they were literally drenched in blood from saving lives.

As for her high marks in the _supposedly easy_ subject of charms, it was definitely paying off as she removed the acrid smell of cauterized flesh from the makeshift hospital that was the Great Hall. Dark Magic had been used extensively in the battle, and many curses were twisted specifically to not heal on their own, and resisted normal healing spells. It was a horrible solution that most Healers would not have considered, rather letting the corruption slowly creep across the body as a slow-moving cancer that would eventually prove fatal; but Poppy saw the results and agreed that Narcissa's radical treatment was for the best.

One of the Ministry medi-witches had tried to use a bone saw in order to save as much of the body as they could, but the excising and amputation of flesh had to be done with Dark Magic in order to stop the cursed flesh from ‘jumping the node’.

The wizard before them had his ankle bone melting out of a wound in his skin, and would have been screaming in pain if Narcissa hadn't spelled him unconscious. Poppy, obviously, wasn't a fan of her bedside manner.

"Honestly, Narcissa, you ought to be a bit more compassionate to your patients."

"And they all should realize how much they are taxing my patience." Casting the diagnostic charm, they were able to see where the curse was centralized in the wound before it began to spread.

“Twisting the curse so it can recognize medicinal spellwork and retaliate is just... _too intelligently evil_.” Cissy muttered, realization dawning that the curse had been rooted in Necromancy... essentially her sister's magical signature.

Poppy's wistful voice broke Narcissa's reminiscing. "I wish Severus were around still; he was able to retard this kind of curse in Albus' hand…” She trailed off, the uncomfortable moment languishing between them. Narcissa cast the impervious charm and set to using the Sectumsempra curse to save the rest of the person.

"Well, he's dead now, and all his intricate Dark Wards magically tattooed into Albus’ flesh only bought the old man some time. Besides, I'm pretty certain that he was ordered by Albus to do whatever it took to secure his position with the Death Eaters, including euthanizing him." Narcissa would have pitied his death, but she knew better. At least Severus would be less unhappy now.

"Albus, order his own death?! He was… _admittedly, eccentric…_ but that?" Narcissa grimaced as the spell took hold and cleaved the flesh in two. Poppy was shuddering at the sound of slicing bone as she prepared to cauterize the wound.

“He was gay; preferred the company of men. Trying to pussyfoot by claiming it was eccentricity betrays his legacy.”

“But he was a _good wizard,_ I don’t want to besmirch him.”

Narcissa closed her eyes and took a long breath, changing the subject.

"My son was ordered to dispatch Albus," Poppy scoffed at the notion, making Narcissa nod in agreement, "and as Severus was a double agent, he must have informed Albus of the machination. That’s why Sev relented when Bellatrix and I twisted his arm into making the Unbreakable Vow to do the job himself if Draco failed. My son's no killer, and I believe Albus could easily run the war from his Headmaster portrait with Severus as the new Headmaster."

“ _The Unbreakable Vow?!_ ” Poppy gasped, shocked.

“I suppose he could have planned to kill my sister Bella to break the vow, but she had disappeared for a few months on some sort of secret mission for The Dark Lord.”

"Or he could have killed you!" Poppy exclaimed as the rotten foot fell to the ground and she incinerated it.

"Other than his mother, I'm the closest thing to family he’s ever had. He would never harm me or my boy. I… never should have made him take the Vow to kill Albus..." Narcissa said.

"So both sides conspired among themselves to assassinate the Headmaster?"

Narcissa’s response was cut off as Ginny interrupted.

"Harry publicly praised Snape as a hero; he apparently did all that double agent work because he loved Lily. "

Ginny's eyes lingered on the wizard's stumpy leg for a moment too long before she jerked out of it. Narcissa thought that Ginny seemed too young and innocent to have to see any of this, but war changes people. _Never for the better, either_.

"I suppose Severus is a hero then. Merlin knows he wouldn't want to be called that."

"Mrs. Malf… Uh, Black? I wanted to ask after Hermione. How… how is she?"

Narcissa bit her lip, and considered her words carefully. "It's Mrs. Granger now, and she's still having to adjust to all that happened. But physically? I've healed her injuries, and will do everything in my power to make sure she never gets hurt again."

The youngest Weasley nodded her understanding. "Never saw her as a fan of the Holyhead Harpies." Ginny had mumbled it, but the slight disgust was evident in her crinkled nose.

Narcissa bristled at the insinuation; _this was her best female friend?_ “I beg your pardon?”

"I'm just saying, we were good friends for years, and I had no idea that she was into..." She held her tongue. "Well, she was raised in the muggle world; probably doesn't know better."

The Slytherin knew that she would had to out-empathize the Gryffindor, and kept the Ice Queen persona at bay, her go-to defense mechanism for years.

"Ginevra Weasley, are you saying that my wife, _you friend Hermione_ is somehow _mentally deficient_ because she might like women?"

"Well of course not, she's brilliant, but it’s just… not right, you know?"

“She and I just killed the most evil wizard on the planet, and you think she's not right in the head?”

"Well, you were married and had a son with Lucius, so you can't be a gay." Narcissa felt like she had her work cut out for her as she sighed and calmed herself.

"Whether she has romantic feelings towards women or not doesn't make her any less of a person, either morally, mentally, or any other metric one could compare others. Some women only want a man with wealth and power, some only are attracted to a certain physique, a few out there really have a thing for gingers... My point is, an attraction to women is no different. And I think Hermione could use all the _supportive friends_ she could get right now, because a lot of people are going to say some pretty horrible things about her."

Ginny nodded, but Narcissa could tell that it would take time for her to unlearn certain stubborn homophobic prejudices. "She didn't choose to do this on purpose, did she?"

"No, she didn't. And I'm fairly certain she still only likes boys."

Relief flooded her face. "Thank Merlin! I was worried I never noticed in the years we shared a bedroom when she came to visit-”

"-I should get back to helping the patients..." Narcissa said in a hurry, blinking tears away. She understood that Hermione hadn’t chosen this and, even if the brunette had fancied women, would have never even considered the Slytherin Ice Queen. It was a completely logical conclusion, but for some reason it hurt on a fundamental level that she didn't expect.

Ginny finally noticed the woman before her. "Oh, and now you're stuck as her wife... "

Cissy bit the inside of her cheek as she gathered her resolve.

" _Ginevra,_ do you think any less of me if I fancy Hermione? So far, she's been a much better husband than Lucius. As in, I haven't had to _glamour away bruises_ he used to give me."

The youngest Weasley stopped short at that question; she had never fathomed to think of it that way.

"Mrs. Granger… I had no idea. But, uh, I guess Hermione would be as good or better than some guys out there. Better than Daphne, at least. She's worse than one of Hagrid's nifflers."

Narcissa chuckled quietly. "The quality of the partner matters more than blood status or gender in my accounting." Poppy had left them and was treating other patients as Narcissa turned away to do the same.

“I thought you-” Ginny wondered.

“-Lucius demanded that I not disagree with his prejudices. The Bonding forced me to comply, and over time I just found it easier to stay silent as families like yours assumed the worst of me.”

Ginny seemed perplexed at this, biting her lip in thought.

“Draco was quite the prat about blood purity in Hogwarts… at first. This last year, however, he seemed over it.”

The corner of Narcissa’s lip curled as pride swelled in her chest.

“Did he, now?”

Ginny nodded. “He and I bonded over being outcasts together, actually. The Slytherins saw him as a failure for not being Dark enough, and the Gryffindors avoided me because they were afraid I was infused with Dark Magic because I opened the Chamber of Secrets.”

Narcissa lowered her head in shame. _Ginerva was only 11 and Lucius nearly killed her._

“I’m so sorry about that, I had no idea Lucius-”

“-Draco already apologized, and I told him it wasn’t his fault.”

A beat passed between them.

"Did you always know you liked women? Why did you marry Lucius?"

Ginny's question stunned her as she thought of a new way to answer it, and in a way that might sway many others to make her current marriage to Hermione socially acceptable.

"I did; the first crush I had in my third year was to a witch in Gryffindor. But I married Lucius because otherwise the ‘scandal’ of my relationship with Od - the witch in question - would have brought shame to the Black family. And because marrying a wizard and having a half dozen babies _was expected_ of me.

Did you know that in my parent's generation, it was **illegal** to have a Pureblood marry a Muggle? Not to mention the social stigma, where you could get labeled a pariah and nobody would do business with you?"

"That's silly! I knew that your sister was disowned, but I just thought that the Black family were all just backward, Pureblood supremacists."

"That’s just it; everyone back then was. Society as a whole saw it as 'wrong' and the Weasleys were the first to say otherwise and change the minds of people. I hope someday the same will happen for when two wizards or witches fall in love."

"Then I guess as Hermione's friend, I get to threaten you with a bat-bogey hex if you ever break her heart."

Her smirk was a little too knowing and Narcissa realized that it wasn't an empty threat.

The pair went over to a patient whose trembling was obviously an after-effect of spell damage. Narcissa showed the young woman how to check for Dark Magic before using any diagnostic spells.

Ginny and Narcissa were leaning over their patient together as the venomously sweet voice shot a frozen bolt into her.

"Moving on already? My, the ink isn't even dry on the paperwork and you're already looking for your next victim?"

Narcissa could tell that whatever love the reporter once had for her before was utterly gone now.

"What are you talking about, Rita? I'm here treating the injured!"

"Oh, was this a way for you to have your cake and eat it too? To trample on our ways and traditions so you could parade about with your young, _now younger,_ witch lover?"

"You used to be a great reporter. _Now you're just a ghoul."_

"Well I am following the death of your sham, _Sodomite_ Marriage. Hermione's talking to the interim Minister of Magic for an annulment… that is, when she's not off snogging Viktor Krum…”

Cold fury raged through Narcissa and she strode to leave the Great Hall, facing a livid Molly Weasley, eyes narrowed at the former Malfoy matriarch.

"You stay **_AWAY_ **from my daughter, she's not even of age!" Molly said quietly, her teeth bared and clenched in anger.

Narcissa had forgotten all about her Slytherin Reserve, and couldn’t raise the Ice Queen mask in time.

**_"Go squat on a wand and spin, for all I care!"_**

* * *

HERMIONE

Hermione and Draco worked well in the comfortable silence, and she had to wonder how things could have worked out had she been at least a Half-blood in Ravenclaw House.

_Would he have given me begrudging respect? He never seemed to hate me as much as Harry…_

As the brunette prepared the sopophorous bean, Draco glanced over and made a suggestion. "Hermione, you'll get better juice if you-"

"-crush with the flat edge of a silver knife? Yeah, I know." She replied off-handedly, making him look back in wonder.

"And if I told you for every seven counter-clockwise stirs..." He baited, smiling.

"...add one clockwise. Professor Snape gave you private lessons?" Hermione asked, smiling at the idea of how he would have taught a private lesson.

_Without inane dunderheads nearby risking the lives of everyone else, he could focus on so much more of the theory and tweaking potions to have higher effectiveness..._

“Yeah. My godfather wanted to teach someone his trade as well as know how to devise the antivenin for Nagini in case he…” His face wavered and he looked away.

“He turned out to be a very good man in the end. Be proud of what he did, and remember why he did it.” Hermione consoled.

Draco nodded. “Yeah, I hoped that Pansy would have… Wait. How do you know his potion-making alterations? Merlin knows you're not that creative to deviate from the instructions…”

Hermione frowned at the slight dig, but knew he was right.

“Harry found Snape's old potions textbook that was heavily annotated. I thought he was cheating.”

“Oh, Brilliant!” Draco said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I wondered how he surpassed my own scores in Slughorn's class so easily. I never thought Godfather would… you know. He was _too Slytherin_ to die.”

Hermione nodded, stirring the cauldron and lowering the flame so it would simmer. In the quiet companionship after that last battle, she was comforted by how at ease she and Draco were around each other.

That all ended as the door slammed open. Startled, Hermione nearly knocked over the cauldron as she pulled out her wand, and Draco's wand flicked up a shield instantly. Narcissa paced in, her face leaving no room for pleasantries.

 **"EAGER FOR AN ANNULMENT?!** Draco, go find a House Elf and bring us back some food. _Take your time."_ A flick of her eyes to her son and he was off in an instant.

Those same eyes rested on her wife, lips pressed thin conveying quiet rage. When she spoke, her jaw barely moved.

"Why am I hearing this from that... vile... reporter?"

_Oh… fuck._

Something raged in Hermione’s chest; fury wanted to spew forth and instantly it locked onto a target: jealousy of Rita’s past with her wife.

“I should have _drowned that bug_ in the lake when I could…” Hermione muttered, anger rising within, “Should I list the reasons, my dear, _sweet wife?_ I'm only **eighteen** , I've only had _one relationship_ before, I'm definitely not ready to settle down, particularly with a woman whose son _I went to school with!_

“I want to go out on dates, get sloshed at a pub, go dance at the Candy Bar, just be carefree like _every other kid out there my age!_ I planned on having the muggle skip year after I graduated to see the world. Because I want to be wooed by someone who loves me, because I deserve romance!”

“I’m willing to have that kind of relationship with you, Hermione!” Narcissa shouted back, face reddening. Her wife chortled sarcastically at that.

“We don't have a relationship, we have a _fucking contract_ with a LITERAL FUCKING **sex clause!** I don't care that women were once treated like property and our bonding reflects that, **I** am NOT property, nor do I wish to **own** anyone! I want to decide whom I love and desire!”

Narcissa looked stricken at the words, but she looked more angry than hurt.

“You speak of wanting romance? What does Marriage ever have to do with romance? Besides, it's a moot point; what's done is done. Honestly, what did you think a marriage was in the Pureblood world? _Flowers and candy every night?_ We’ve not been married for 4 days, and I’ve already heard about your _kiss_ with _Viktor_ . I know I said you could have a discreet lover, but I thought you had enough sense to not do that in front of Rita herself and turn us into a _front page scandal!”_

“ **I** didn't kiss Viktor, _he kissed me!_ Besides, I won't do some _sham_ open marriage; I don't cheat! Perhaps you can _whore yourself around_ all you want with Odette and Rita, but damn it, I have standards!"

Narcissa flinched back as if slapped in the face, and Hermione knew she went too far, covering her mouth with her hand, terrified at her lack of control.

“How. DARE. You. Do - NOT - presume to judge me for the choices I've had to make-”

The sound of stomping feet interrupted her words as errant spell-fire went off nearby.

"Time to make all those Slytherin poofters pay for their fudge-packing!" A voice called out, slurred.

"This is for Cedric!" Another voice called out, and a small explosion charm hit.

“ ** _Fucking Pureblood scum_ **, I swear I wanna see them all burn like in the old stories…”

Narcissa and her wife automatically exchanged a knowing glance as the Slytherin took point at the doorway, casting basic defensive wards to attempt and repel them, and her wife went to the storeroom and cast bubble-head charms upon the pair of them. As she quickly grabbed the ingredients for garrotting gas, Narcissa looked over and nodded her understanding and snuffed the torches to dim the hallway.

"How many?" Hermione asked, charming a bubble-head charm around the cauldron, once the ingredients were all added.

A flick of her wand later, she responded. "At least 6 right now, give me a second and I can determine how drunk..." A small blast went off near her. "Well, some are sober enough to aim and dumb enough to kill, damn it all! _Depulso!"_

Hermione had a cauldron that she couldn't stir without gassing themselves as Narcissa was dueling with kid gloves, merely trying to push them back. "Use Bombarda! That might actually stop them!" Thinking quickly, she pushed a stirring rod through the charm and into the cauldron, using her wand to levitate and stir the potion remotely. It took more effort than if she did it manually, but this way was safer.

"Depulso isn't lethal, Hermione, Bombarda is! They’re just drunk minors trying to blow off steam."

"I don't care if it's Justin Finch-Fletchley with the damned Choir, they aren't about to come down here and attack us!" Hermione sniped, levitating the cauldron and making her way carefully to the door. Narcissa had her wand out and took over levitating the cauldron, banishing it down the hallway towards the looters and followed it up with a well-placed Confringo hex. The blast undid the bubble-head charm on it, and soon they heard bodies dropping like flies as Hermione pulled her wife in from the doorway and slammed the door shut, charming it to seal entirely.

“For having to improvise and fight off unknown assailants with no warning, we certainly can work like team…” Narcissa mused, pinned to the wall by her wife. Their eyes locked on each other as they were impossibly close, seemed to fit together naturally as their lips yearned to close the last few inches of distance. The brunette felt firm hands on her waist, and she was nearly undone from the simplest touch-

“-time to stir the blood-replenishing potion.” The Ice Queen’s eyes were locked on the cauldron back at the table, gulping down her arousal to seem cold and distant.

Hermione looked, and she could tell that her wife was right. _She could tell it was the blood-replenishing potion at this distance and point in the brewing process?_ Hermione pulled out a stirring rod, wiped it clean with the charmed Potion-making cloth, and began to do the four minutes of stirring. It was tedious, but she could tell that it was coming along perfectly.

"Professor... um, Severus didn't seem to have any self-stirring cauldrons here, do you know where I could find some?" The Gryffindor focused on the potion directions in order to temper her rising desire for the witch she had just saved. She knew that the compulsion was a lie repeating in her head until she accepted it, and all she had to do was stubbornly deny her attraction.

"Oh, he never trusted those. Refused to have them here." Hermione kept stirring, the awkward silence growing between them.

“I'm not going to apologize; I know I'm right.” Hermione muttered to herself.

“Luce said that a lot, too,” Narcissa replied, much more consideration in her voice than before.

As Hermione kept stirring, her bicep muscle pulled itself and she quickly switched hands in order to keep the stirring constant. Narcissa was instinctively by her wife’s side, concern apparent on her face.

“Hold out your arm, I can massage it…” Hermione winced, knowing that my left arm wasn't as able to keep this up.

“No, take over, needs one more minute widdershins…” Hermione passed off the stirring rod and Narcissa took it over ably, using her other hand to check the notes she was using.

"You're using Sev’s modifications, I see. I had offered to pay for private lessons to Draco, but he wouldn't hear of it. I think he saw Draco as the son he never had." Narcissa commented, trying to break the silence.

The minute went by and Narcissa pulled the stirring rod out, cast a stasis spell on the cauldron, and quickly tended to massaging Hermione’s pulled bicep better than the Gryffindor could. Relief flowed through her simply at the mere touch, and within moments, the muscle started to un-knot.

Hermione fought the urge to moan in relief as her brown eyes met apologetic blue.

“I understand your reluctance in all this; but as women go, you're pretty amazing. You’re brilliant, talented, stick to your ideals, and most of all, you're not full of yourself. You are better than most men I know.”

“It’s not just that, Narcissa-”

“-Cissy, please.”

Hermione gasped as her wife’s thumb released the knot of tension.

“Okay, Cissy. I don’t feel in control of my thoughts and actions lately. When The Dark Lord tor- I mean, Voldemort! When _Voldemort_ tortured me, I…”

The Slytherin’s eyes were wide in worry and concern, before she looked away in shame.

“What happened?”

“I can’t say it. I-I…” Hermione took a deep, calming breath. “I’m afraid of losing control; when I’m around you, I can’t seem to understand _why_ I’m _feeling_ like this.”

“Darling, are you sure you’re not just in love?”

As Hermione’s eyes met Narcissa’s, she couldn't hold onto the rage she once felt.

“How am I supposed to know what that feels like?” The insecurity and worry for the past year came to a head; Hermione could finally let her emotional shields down, and she knew she could trust the blonde before her to pick up the pieces should she shatter.

“I am lucky that, of all the people I could have wound up Bonded to… that it was you.” Cissy’s fingertips brushed Hermione’s cheek and the heat was back. It felt so amazing between them, and the Brunette had to fight herself from nuzzling her wife’s hand.

_We fit together so perfectly, so right..._

After facing so much gore and bloodshed, this human contact, this affirmation of life was what Hermione craved. She never realized how much she could starve for physical contact until she met Narcissa.

“I... I'm sorry for snogging Krum. When he kissed me, and I kissed back because he’s… familiar. Comfortable. If that makes sense.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding.

“Which is why I thought you’d want a discreet lover; Salazar knows how many women Lucius had that he didn’t tell me about.”

“Did you have any?”

“Luce never gave me permission; Rita was my last lover before I was bound to him. He also directed me to use my feminine wiles to flirt and coerce certain wizards when his outright threats wouldn’t be of use.”

“Sounds like you two had more of a power couple or business partnership than a romantic relationship.”

Narcissa frowned at that, looking away in shame. “Yeah, just like _Pureblood Tradition_ dictates. You have to understand, not all traditions are bad, but that one has exploited women for ages.”

“And I don't want to hurt your feelings because Viktor assumed I was single. Next time a guy starts to flirt with me, I'll explain that my situation is complicated." She seemed to roll her eyes at his name.

“Hermione, that’s not what I was really upset about. It was hearing from my _vindictive ex_ about you wanting an annulment! It won't change a thing between us; we'll still be Bonded, and the Compulsion will still have its effect. I’m sorry.”

As the Slytherin cupped Hermione’s face in her hand, the feeling of warmth and tenderness flowed through her body. She wondered if she was just being stubborn, as there was another option right in front of her, something that might not be so bad.

_Particularly when my body seems to crave her touch like this…_

Hermione leaned into her wife’s hand, trying to find her resolve.

“Muggles in my generation have a term for that… _friends with benefits;_ essentially two people not in love and not a relationship have an arrangement based on mutual... er, physical... satisfaction."

Narcissa looked as though she wanted to argue the point that we were indeed in a relationship, but didn't. She leaned in, smirking ever so slightly, and Hermione bit her lower lip need.

"So if I wanted to summon you for... _Amorous Congress..._ " Narcissa smirked as she gently kissed the most sensitive part of her wife’s neck. Hermione’s head tilted automatically to give the Slytherin more access, and couldn't stop the moan coming from her throat.

“That's…” Hermione swallowed as her breathing went heavy, “commonly referred to as a 'booty call'...”

_Am I really entertaining this as an idea? Why am I over-analyzing this now?_

“How gauche. I'd prefer to be with a _cunning linguist._ ” Her lips met Hermione’s and they kissed with a passion like breathing for the first time in their lives.

Hermione realized in that moment that she was definitely into women as well, even if they made puns.

“I am quite amenable to that.” Hermione resumed kissing Narcissa, drinking in her wife’s flavor and essence. As the Gryffindor’s tongue probed for access, Cissy willingly obliged her entry with a moan.

_How is she such a damn good kisser..._

"I'd rather see you put those hands to good use."

* * *

DRACO

Draco left the potions lab, glad to be out of the brewing fight. Unlike the ones from his childhood, he knew his mother would stand up to Hermione, as she wasn’t the type to wield the Compulsion like his father had. They might even settle their differences.

_My mum and the Princess of Gryffindor, who would have thought?_

As he passed the Great Hall, a loud scuffle grabbed his attention. Ginny Weasley was arguing with Ministry Healers, who were apparently refusing to treat a patient.

“-I **don't care** how many times you say it's for the _health and sanitary needs_ of the other patients, he's a patient too! Firenze fought to stop Voldemort, he got injured, so he deserves treatment!”

“My resources are for healing witches and wizards, NOT for the _dobbin_ , and definitely not for your little demon friend. **It** stays _outside.”_

 _Demon?_ Draco wondered, knowing ‘dobbin’ was a slur for the centaurs. The young Slytherin finally saw who Ginny was with; Fleur had transformed into the Veela’s fear-inducing ‘war form’.

“How _dare you_ refer to me as an ‘it’! I’m a _VEELA_ , not a demon!” Fleur retorted, whose arms were bound behind her back in magical chains, “Release me and I'll send you to hell so you can see the difference!”

“Don't make us call for team of Hit Wizards; go away and leave the Wizarding World to _those who belong here.”_

Draco leered in typical Pureblood fashion, hoping to distract them and throw around his presence long enough to let Ginny help get Firenze and Fleur out of the escalating conflict.

“Well, well, what do we have here? _I_ was raised to look down my nose at inferior creatures by my Death Eater father… _what's your excuse?”_ Draco said coldly, challenging them to own up to their own prejudice.

"Oh look, the _blue-blood_ is coming to rescue the nag and the **bitch.** " Draco stopped cold. He had done his share of teasing and bullying, and had even dealt with an angry retort or two, but he had never been targeted before. What was more, these were adults - Healers - who were supposed to be focused on their patients. He weighed his options, and knew that retaliating by 'pulling a Granger' would only make matters worse.

His face was neutral, but he couldn't be sure about keeping his voice from wavering. Setting his jaw, Draco kept eye contact with the Healers as he jerked his head as a signal for Ginny to help the injured patients. Ginny's wand was out and broke the shackles that had been restraining Fleur's hands. The Healers raised their own wands in fear, prepared to hex first and answer for their actions later.

Draco stepped between them, hand on his holstered wand, but un-drawn. His look was challenging theirs; the Healers' resolve broke first. They turned back to the Great Hall where they had patients to attend to.

“Thanks.” Ginny said, gently levitating Firenze and leading him back to his divination classroom on the first floor. Fleur looked to the young Slytherin and inquired about getting potions for herself and the centaur.

“Hermione and my mother were having an argument in the potions lab; it'll be a bit before anyone will want to go in there.”

Fleur nodded her understanding. “They will make a powerful couple, if they can get over their own issues.”

Draco thought about it, knowing how rare it was to see his mother both happy and as the confident woman that he once knew as a child. The past few years, she started to look more withdrawn and closed-off, even before The Dark Lord had returned. “I'll bring back some potions when I take some food down to them.”

Ginny laid the centaur into a soft patch of clover, and he groaned appreciatively as he looked over his wounds and took in his situation. “Thank you both; I believe I can wait for some bandages for my hindquarter. How are you, Fury?”

Fleur's eyes flashed at his for a moment before her lips split into a grin. “Fury? That nickname I like. There's a cauldron-sized hole in one wing, and I landed on the other. It might be broken.” She said it matter-of-factly, knowing she would recover. “Thank you.”

There was a lot not said in the exchange, as they both knew of each other’s losses in the war and would learn to move on. Ginny, however, needed to be busy and work her way through her grief.

“Bandages, healing salve, essence of dittany? I can knick that.” She offered, disillusioning herself as she left the classroom.

* * *

HERMIONE

Narcissa couldn't stop squirming from Hermione's ticklish touch, so she shouldn't have been surprised when she found her ankles restrained with rope by her enthusiastic wife.

It was the fact that the Slytherin had her legs left open wide by the rope, exposing her sex and being vulnerable to Hermione that had her dripping wet was what surprised her.

 _I think I can appreciate a bit of bondage during sex again..._ Narcissa mused as her wife's wand vanished her pants under the robes that were splayed open. She was exposed and vulnerable in front of the Gryffindor, and it only spurred her desire for the brunette who was on top of her.

Another flick of the wand, and Narcissa's wrists were also bound to the spare potions desk, her nipples hardening in the cold air. Hermione took the time to explore and trail her lips all over the body before her. The brunette’s fingertips trailed over the blonde's torso and with every press of lips it was as if heat were transferring between the two. Narcissa saw the look in her lover's eyes and it was the rawest, most sexual thing she had ever seen, and she knew in that moment that she was hers.

_Just for this look and this feeling from Hermione, I could give up every other lover. She could be it._

Lips touched for only a moment before Narcissa's lips were being parted by Hermione’s tongue probed and caressed her own. The Gryffindor knew that this felt much different than how a guy kissed; she liked how it was gentle at first and ramped up to scorching passion, whereas seeing how Viktor snogged it was all about being aggressive which usually made her have to back up every time to breathe.

She realized she would have to train whatever partner in the future to kiss like a girl, but quickly dismissed the thought from her head. She was kissing, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman in the world right now and needs to savor it.

Hermione shrugged off her robes and vanished her own undergarments, and a thrill went through her as the naughtiness of the whole situation set in.

 _I'm naked and straddling my bound,_ **_naked_ ** _lover… in Snape's private potions lab…_

Hermione pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured it with a muggle elastic before she began to mark a trail of kisses and nips down Narcissa's neck. She kept going down, and Narcissa strained against the bonds. The blonde wanted to have her fingers threaded through the chestnut curls, to play with that amazing hair of hers, perhaps guide that amazing mouth of hers lower...

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" Hermione asked, eagerly punctuating the question as she drew a breast into her mouth and sucked intently, letting her teeth graze the areola. She had breasts herself so she thought she knew what to expect, but these were just so much more amazing. They were soft yet still firm, and the young Gryffindor just wanted to nuzzle and play with them. They were slightly larger than her own B cup, and Hermione couldn't help but want to leave a bite mark on one of them. _She is mine to mark, isn't she?_

"Do you have any clue how bloody lucky I am right now?" Narcissa replied, thready need as her hips rolled in aching need. The Slytherin had been used to being on top, being the one in control with her female lovers. With Rita, in the end it was an issue of manipulation, control, and getting off. But here she felt safe enough to relinquish control to this woman, and though she was still feeling a bit anxious about this situation, her eyes were pleading to her wife to go on.

Small, delicate fingers found her quim and deftly slid back and forth, and they both knew how wet Narcissa was as there was already enough lubricant for what Hermione had in mind. Their eyes met and it was like legilimency; no words had to be said in this exchange as the shuddering breath and shaky nod came from the bound woman.

“Oh… please…” Narcissa sounded like she was praying, which suited Hermione just fine. This could be their Heaven, as Hermione was worshiping the prone body beneath her and thanking every deity she could think of for this moment.

Their lips met, raw passion and need conveying between them as Narcissa shuddered in surprise for a second, her mouth opening again as Hermione's fingers easily slid their way in. The Gryffindor purred her satisfaction into the slytherin's mouth as fingers curled and stroked her wife's inner walls. Narcissa sobbed as she felt Hermione inside her. It was only three inches deep, but she felt herself tighten against those fingers and made every inch count.

The kiss relented and Narcissa's eyes opened to take in the sight of her lover and her heart pounded as Hermione sucked and licked her own fingers, surprisingly pleased with her wife's flavor. _I think Hermione plans to kill me this way..._ Narcissa thought as her pulse jackhammered away in her chest. She bit her lip as she took in the sight of her lover enjoying her taste, and then had those same fingers in her own mouth.

Narcissa was wanton, lifting her head from the table as she took in her own taste on her lover's fingers and loved the scent. _Fuck, I've missed this..._ she thought, realizing it had been 0years since her last assignation.

"I'm going to enjoy that." Hermione said seductively as Narcissa writhed in naked need. She could have sworn that her voice had gone husky and loved the sound of it.

"Fill me. Please. I need it. I need you…" Narcissa's words stopped as lips and tongues met, and she tasted herself on her wife's lips and savored it. It was absolute heaven; she knew she wanted more from her. Narcissa's hips rolled against the fingers that were deftly circling her clit with the barest of pressure, and it was a maddening tease that had the blonde woman ready to beg for more.

"I need to try this, Cissy." Hermione's words were lost on the other woman, who was only able to incoherently nod some sort of agreement. Warm wetness penetrated her folds, and Narcissa was amazed at the eager tongue-fucking she was receiving from her wife. It was both soft yet firm as the warm silk lapped inside her.

 _Hermione's enthusiasm is quite the surprise..._ Narcissa considered as lips gently sucked on her clit, her hands fighting the rope restraints because she wanted - needed - to caress this mortal succubus who perfected a rhythm of suction and penetration.

"More. I need more, 'Mione. Fuck me, fuck me..." The older woman's lack of propriety in her words edged Hermione on, getting her fourth finger inside and marveling at the possibilities here.

"You want me to _fuck_ you with my hand?" Hermione teased, her eyes glazed over in lust as she kissed a trail up from her lover's breasts to her chin. Narcissa nodded as her thighs shook almost violently.

"Say it." Hermione's voice was husky with desire, and Narcissa relented. She's going to make me beg, and I can barely talk...

"Pl... Please... please fuu.. fuck me with-with..." She swallowed and gasped, "your hand..."

Narcissa felt the trail of her slickness in the kisses and had her suspicions confirmed as she licked her wife's chin, able to drown herself in the mingling of their scents and flavors. She began to say 'rotate' and she was rendered speechless as Hermione did just that with her hand, and Narcissa shuddered slightly as her lover's fist was entirely inside her. The Gryffindor's face opened up in surprise and amazement as her hand just naturally slid in, and she couldn't help the Cheshire smile on her face.

It was that intense fullness that she had been craving, and having it now, combined with the restraints keeping her legs open, Narcissa's trembling could have been mistaken for shock. Even her teeth were nearly chattering as she was on the brink of climax.

Hermione loved having this power over her wife, being the one who could make her lose her composure and see her so needy for her. This base level of desire was new to the Gryffindor, and to be wanted and needed this much was a heady feeling.

"So... oh so so so good fuck me fuck slowly so fuck deep yes..." Narcissa's back arched as she began to break into a cold sweat, Hermione's lips fastened onto her as she came loudly, pouring the intensity of the orgasm into the kiss and time seemed to stop for them. Hermione drank it all in, the flavor, the sensation, the raw need, the satisfaction, and somewhere inside her she felt her own lust sated as time seemed to resume for them both. Her awareness came back, and she was re-orienting herself and blinked her eyes to return to reality.

Hermione recognized that things kept going on as normal; her hand was pumping in her wife, her lips were sharing the most intense kiss she had ever experienced, but the feeling of satisfaction and completion had stripped everything else away. As the kiss ended, Hermione collapsed onto her wife's breast, spent as though she had the cathartic orgasm herself. _Did I just orgasm from her climax?_ Hermione wondered as she she felt exhaustion take her.

* * *

 

DRACO

Ginny and Fleur were bandaging Firenze as Draco returned with an unreadable expression on his face. "Where are the potions? Did you talk to your mom?"

He hadn't talked to his mother; he had seen the pile of bodies and thought the worst as he ran down to the laboratory. But when he had barely opened the door, his mother's words had him closing it as quickly and as silently as possible. He wanted to Obliviate himself after hearing her say 'fuck', but he was glad to know his mother was happy with the muggle-born.

"Uh, no, wasn't able to talk to her."

"Oh, were they still going at it?" Draco paled at the question. He just nodded.

Ginny nodded sympathetically at the blonde boy.

"Good call; I knew when to avoid my parents were in the thick of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "naptime" charm done by the house elves was one of the biggest regrets and cheapest Macguffins I wrote in the original version.


	9. Broken Orders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pansy was always supposed to be involved in the background with the phoenix, but playing the recent Assassins Creed Odyssey (and a dear friend of mine) has influenced and inspired me to expand on the bird of prey as a fighting ally and not just a convenient healing plot device.

HERMIONE

Hermione awoke in a tangle of legs, my thighs and pelvis rocking gently on the smooth thigh she had been draped over. An arm held her in place as blue eyes met her own. The last thing she could recall was kissing Narcissa when they...

Her eyes shot open wide in panic. Hermione left Cissy bound and fell asleep!

_Where's my wand?!_

She groped around for either of her wands and noticed Narcissa's wand vibrating nearby like an alarm. It took her a moment to realize that the wand had woken the Gryffindor up. She made a note to ask about that charm sometime as the Slytherin smiled at her.

"It's okay, Hermione. I summoned my wand and freed myself. But you looked tired and so darn cute sleeping on me that I thought we could both use a nap."

As the brunette came to, she took in her surroundings. The table Narcissa had been bound to was now padded, and there was a thin comforter covering the pair of them. The Slytherin was no longer half-wearing her robes, and neither was Hermione. She lifted the comforter slightly to see she was wearing her undergarments while Narcissa was entirely nude.

Hermione blushed as her wife quirked up an eyebrow in playful banter.

"I prefer sleeping naked when possible, I didn't think you'd mind."

Maybe it was because she was physically sated, or because she had slept unusually well, but Hermione didn't mind at all.

"How long was I out for?" the Brunette asked, yawning myself into a stretch.

"Only two hours; I thought that would be enough for you to feel recharged for finishing up and delivering these potions."

"Oh my god! I forgot all about them! What… what about the… um, rioters outside? Did they not come in?" Hermione’s mind was a jumble; she was unable to focus on multiple things at once it seems.

"Your wards are still up, dear. I couldn't even crack them, which is saying something. But then again, you broke through Severus' wards in your second year. He was quite incensed, yet very impressed with you."

"He knew?" Hermione asked, guilt still playing in her chest from that school infraction.

"He had to go through your notes and figure out what you were doing. Apparently since you brewed the Polyjuice Potion correctly, it was an easier job to isolate the flaw with the animal hair. He is, I should say was, quite impressed with you."

Hermione chuffed in surprise as Narcissa leaned over to kiss her. The moment felt too sudden, too comfortable, and the at-home feeling Hermione had flooding through her made her jerk back in surprise.

“Hermione?” Narcissa’s eyes wrinkled in worry, “Should I not kiss you?”

"S-sorry. I- uh, just… " She stammered, uncertain how to express that this new life she has is so very incongruous to the past year of being on the run, sleeping alone, taking care of a hungry boy who was always whiny while only having a smelly tent to call home.

“Cissy, this is just too much… too idealistically simple and perfect. I feel like I'm going to wake up from this and it’s all been a strange nightmare; that I’m still on the run from Snatchers, with only a tent and Harry and Ronald and myself passing around that damned horcrux. Is this just some horrible dream, because this… _us…_ is so wrong and yet feels right.”

Narcissa's eyes dropped, a sad smile on her lips. "I understand; it’s been pretty sudden and jarring. I'll… just be out of your way then. I'm sure you have things to do." She looked crestfallen as she got up and dressed herself.

Hermione knew that she couldn’t just leave it like this; that she needed to tell her wife something, anything to comfort her.

"I'm not ready for fresh, warm cinnamon rolls!" The Brunette exclaimed, a bit louder than she had meant to.

Narcissa paused, looking at her wife as she had only one leg through her black lacy boy-shorts, the other foot hovering to go through. The moment was just so awkwardly normal and mundane that it only unnerved the Gryffindor more.

_The Ice Queen Bitch is a normal person, just like you, whom you just fucked... and loved doing it._

She finished pulling her pants on and gave her wife a pensive look. "I don't get that Muggle turn of phrase."

Hermione sighed, and took a few slow breaths to gather her thoughts.

_Oh god, I'm doing that whole self-revealing, pillow-talk thing. With Draco’s mum._

"When I was young, my mum had fresh baked cinnamon rolls every weekend for us. Sugar-free frosting, of course. To me it has been a sign of a happy home and loving family. But this,” She gestured between herself and Narcissa, “it's too… soon? Weird? I'm not ready to accept it, like I’ll just wake up, and I'll be back on the run and you'll want me dead… know what I mean?"

Narcissa’s mouth opened in disgust, like she tasted something abhorrent. Her voice was cold and distant as Hermione could ever recall.

"I haven't had a _happy home_ nor a _loving family_ for over a **decade** , Hermione. The war is over, and that… _fucking madman…_ is finally dead. Slytherin knows the cost was way too damn high, but I thought I found a silver lining in all of this senseless death. Working alongside you? We could make this world into a better place, and I thought I could actually let you into my heart and _not just into my bed."_

Hermione shrugged guiltily, knowing that Narcissa deserved a better life than she had before. But she couldn’t just instantly be in love with someone, much less a woman her mom’s age she barely knew until this week.

"Cissy, I thought you understood what I was offering when I said we could be a friend with benefits. I mean, yes, there's _obviously an attraction_ here because the bloody compulsion has messed with my mind and I apparently _have to_ indulge in it from time to time… but that's it. Between helping Harry, wanting to improve the welfare of the House Elves, finding my parents and restoring their memories, and a very probable Goblin Rebellion... I just don't have the time or energy to try and be the kind of wife you deserve."

She flicked her wand up, and the Arithmantic equation they had looked at before was floating above their heads. The line labeled “Lucius” had dropped abruptly as a new line rose, honey-gold, splitting off as if fractured and trying to merge with the black line that had been Narcissa’s.

She expanded the equation, and a silver line rose slightly, paired with a green and red line that was labeled “Draco” followed by question marks for the adjoining lines. Another line, this much thicker and muddled, moved forward but dropped down as if a cliff before splintering into an unresolved mess.

“The war is over and yet the Wizarding World isn’t safe,” she adjusted the formula, adding goblins into the first matrix and cast _Solvo_ again. The muddled line focused slightly as the splintered mess took a more solid form.

It was still a steep cliff-like drop, and Hermione had to marvel at Narcissa’s Auguric skills.

“That explains a lot,” Narcissa muttered, adjusting the second matrix for potential outcomes to solve for, “but it leaves so many more questions.”

A silvery dragon patronus floated into the room, and Fleur's voice came from it. "Hermione, there's an Order meeting being called right now. Headmaster's office, but we can't seem to get in. It's been warded with an arithmancy problem and none of us seem able to crack it."

 _Why wasn't I told of the meeting?_ Hermione wondered, pulled away from the row that the couple had been trying to avoid. It was then that she noticed Narcissa's eyes were red as she was fighting to control her tears and not rage.

"Why can’t you try for both? Or am I supposed to just _wait around to be_ **_used_ ** _by you?_ " Narcissa spat, "Tossed out first thing in the morning like a whore who outstayed her welcome? The last time I ashamed about making love was with Lucius. What's worse is that _you've been gentle about it."_

Hermione didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Cissa, I-”

“-just go. Your Gryffindor do-good squad needs your help.”

A flash of fire was in the room, a red feather from Fawkes dropping before Narcissa.

“Looks like someone’s inviting you, too.”

* * *

PANSY

Pansy awoke with a startle, the wards in the Headmaster’s office had been tripped and she opened her eyes only to see double. It was as if two images were superimposed on top of each other, disjointed and un-tethered as dizziness instantly set in.

The Headmaster’s Office swam in her head, forcing her to close her eyes and do her best to not see anything. It settled down to a single image before her, and she saw herself shaking in an almost fetal position.

That's when she realized the pain that had set in all over her body; aches and bruises that couldn’t be hers yet for some reason she had to persevere through as she watched herself convulse and scream her voice raw, her only outlet for the agony she felt burning inside her veins.

 _What the hell is this?_ The young Slytherin wondered, the odd out-of-body experience  showing hands in front of her tending to herself, pouring the Soulgament Potion into her mouth and coaxing her to swallow.

She remembered the warning about soul-damage Severus had given her, but she didn’t expect hallucinations.

Fawkes landed before her, beak nipping at her nose to grab her attention. Opening one eye, her vision jumbled into two different perspectives as she reached her hand out and made contact with her new familiar. As the talon wrapped around the hand, Pansy’s pain subsided as quickly as her view of the Headmaster’s office faded to black.

* * *

HERMIONE

There was a crowd at the doorway to the Headmaster's office as members from both the Order and the D.A. were trying to all fit into the spiral staircase to give their advice on how to solve the equation.

"Can't we just ask Professor Vector to come solve this for us?" Neville asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, and say what? 'Hey, a ragtag group of suspected Order members and people from that D.A. list all want to go chat in private with Albus' portrait?" Cormac replied loudly. “We were secret societies because plotting to overthrow Snake-face’s Ministry was illegal.”

Luna waved at Hermione, her cheerful soothing the Gryffindor’s nerves as she approached with Narcissa by her side.

"Hermione! Glad to see you!" Luna exclaimed, hugging her first and then went to Narcissa. “You too.”

“I-” Narcissa froze in place as the Ravenclaw hugged her as well.

“She’s a hugger.” Hermione warned, albeit too slowly. The Slytherin kept her poise and demeanor despite feeling incredibly awkward.

“Noted.”

“I may have been tortured in your Manor, but I know it wasn’t you that did it. Thank you for your mercy during such a horrible predicament.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding, looking up to the warded doorway.

"Miss Lovegood, anything you can tell us about the equation?"

She shook her head at that.

"Arithmancy was a subject that I understood the _basics of,_ but this problem seems to delve into advanced theories. Whomever made it, designed it so only certain people could figure it out."

“Delores Umbridge couldn’t even get in when she was named Headmistress though, so who could it be?”

Luna shrugged.

“Maybe this is Dumbledore’s doing?”

Kingsley Shacklebolt cleared his throat, silencing the crowd.

"Everyone, back up! Harry, I understand that the D.A. wants to keep _helping_ , but I believe we should leave this up to the adults." Kingsley's voice carried over the din as Alicia was comforting Dennis and Terry Boot checked Susan's bandaged wand-arm. Katie, Ernie, Lee, and Hannah were by George chatting, while Angelina, Cormac, and Neville were at the bottom of the stairs trying to call up to Kingley and Harry.

Off to the side was Charlie, Ron, and Molly looking over a distraught Lavender. Fleur was walking over, a frown on her angular, vicious-looking fae-like face. "She barely survived Greyback's attack and was torn up just like Bill was. He at least was handsome with the scars but this girl..." She shook her head sadly. "At least she's still recognized as a witch..."

Hermione didn't know how to respond to that as Minerva called down to her from the top of the stairwell.

"Oh, Hermione… _what are you…_ well, could you assist us with this?" As the Deputy Headmistress saw Narcissa, her wand was immediately trained on her.

Instantly, Hermione stood in the way and flicked up a shield charm.

 _"She's with me."_ Hermione said resolutely, "and **not** the enemy." She glanced to her wife, whose eyes glared coldly back for a second before turning away resignedly.

"We have things to discuss _in confidence,"_ Molly added, "and I’ve never trusted a Malfoy. Or a Black."

Cissy muttered something that I could barely hear.

"What was that, Narcissa?" Molly spat, her wand-hand's knuckles white with tension.

"It's Granger now; she can _order me as her wife_ to keep her secrets."

Hermione didn't like the cowed look Narcissa had, but she realized it wasn’t escalating the current problem and was actually helpful in the moment.

 **_"That means nothing!_ **I'm sure you-" Molly was cut off by Kingsley.

"-The Compulsion Curse was partly why we could never convict Lucius. Even when forced to take veritaserum, Narcissa was tongue-tied when we tried to get her to testify."

Hermione was incensed at that.

“You can’t compel someone to testify against their spouse! And veritaserum isn’t even admissible in trial!”

“Laws can be _quite malleable_ in times of crisis, Miss Granger. See to it that you’re on the _right side._ ”

There was a finality in Shacklebolt's voice that left Hermione shaken, and the Interim Minister realized it as he softened his tone.

“I promised you I would be fair and impartial, Hermione. Can you please come up here and help unlock this? We have questions for Albus.”

Hermione was ready to tell the Order that they could all go fuck themselves, except for the tentative squeeze in her hand of support from Narcissa. It surprised her enough to meet her wife’s eyes.

_“Be a Slytherin, maintain their trust.”_

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, silenced as Narcissa nodded knowingly to her. She had no idea messages could be sent that way, and the Know-it-all Gryffindor was uncertain if that was the Bonding or some level of Legilimency.

“Alright; I’ll see what I can do.”

As Hermione made her way through the small crowd to the stairwell, she could feel the stares and judgment of everyone in her path bearing down on her. It now made sense why so many Slytherins had a cold, expressionless mask on most of the time.

_It was their armor._

When Hermione finally got around everyone and to the top of the spiral staircase, Minerva‘s wand was still trained on the Gryffindor’s wife.

"Order her to keep our secrets, Miss Granger."

Hermione set her jaw, facing off the one teacher she had looked up to as a lifelong mentor.

“Is that who we are now; openly exerting control over others? _‘Magic is Might’?”_

Minerva looked ashamed, but resolute as she nodded.

“Fine,” Hermione relented, “Narcissa, as my wife, _I order you_ to keep the secrets of the Order of the Phoenix as well as group known as Dumbledore’s Army..." Minerva nodded her approval, which just got under the young Gryffindor’s skin.

_I refuse to jump through hoops for people who now look down on and judge me…_

“...unless it helps either myself, Harry Potter, or the Greater Good. To be determined by Fleur.” Hermione finished with a knowing sneer; Fleur Weasley was one of the most trusted members of the Order, and apparently protected Harry after Hermione was gone. Minerva was full of indignation by the look on her face, but Hermione didn’t care.

"Now see here-" Minerva started, but Hermione wasn't about to listen.

She needed to be a Slytherin, which meant cunning, not groveling.

" **No.** _You lot_ decided to have a meeting without me. **For a reason.** You even have the D.A. here, _which I helped form,_ and I have to wonder what the **_reason was._** Harry, why are you all meeting here _without_ me?"

Harry shook his head. "I guessed it had to do with the end of the war and making sure we got all of the Dark Wizards unlike last time. But when I realized you weren't invited to this meeting, I realized we would be discussing your… situation."

He looked utterly guilty.

"I **killed** Voldemort, _with_ Narcissa and Draco at my side, and you have the _audacity_ to wonder where my loyalties lie?" The members of the Order looked away in the awkward silence.

Looking at the warded door, Hermione saw the various celestial variables plugged into an intricate equation that already had the Eigenvalue fully fleshed out.

 _It's already solved?_ Hermione wondered as she cast Solvo and... nothing happened.

"That's odd." She muttered, using her wand to expand the matrix of numbers and compared it to the Hamiltonian and its Eigenfunction. It was simple, already solved, but it didn’t work?

"What's odd?" Narcissa asked, getting her wife’s attention. She was at the bottom of the staircase with Fleur protectively by her side. The Slytherin’s curiosity overcame her frustration as she made her way up the stairwell, Order members finally relenting and giving her room to move.

"Arithmancy is the art of calculating the probability of… well, almost anything, provided you have enough details and defined variables." Hermione said, practically paraphrasing the textbook, "But this is dealing with the planets in our system, and the moon, and the sun... and the Eigenvalue is fully resolved to one."

Narcissa was halfway up the spiral stairs, eyes focused on the Arithmantic problem.

"That is odd. Usually the problem with Arithmancy is that you don't have enough relevant variables to accurately predict something. Maybe it’s a testor equation?" Narcissa made her way up and Kingsley nudged McGonagall to move down and out of the way.

"We can’t just let-" Minerva huffed, finally backing down.

As Narcissa took in the equation, she smirked. “Too many variables, that's why it’s not working. Wait, its answer is one… it's not even a real problem, because it’s 100% guaranteed to happen.” She grinned at her wife. _“It's a riddle.”_

"A riddle with numbers? What has a one hundred percent chance of occuring?" Shacklebolt asked, the confusion obvious in his voice.

Luna's voice perked up. "Sunrise. The sun always rises, naturally."

Narcissa smiled as she started erasing the extraneous values. "Ten Points to Ravenclaw... Salazar knows that Severus wouldn't ever award…" As the door finally opened, she gasped in shock.

**"Get a Healer! Now!"**

As the door opened, Hermione saw Severus in the Headmaster's chair, pale as death with Fawkes disappearing in a flash of fire and smoke. Snape looked haggard, as if snatched back from the jaws of death itself, and his once-rich voice had the timbre of a lifetime of smoking and gargling with battery acid.

"Any reports of my demise are, regretfully… premature."

* * *

SEVERUS

Severus winced as Healer Augustus Pye checked over his scarred neck, marveling at the rate of healing.

"I dare say, you're... fine. Aside from the scarring on the neck and vocal cords, it is as if you were never injured." Molly gave him a untrustworthy glare.

"Thank-" Severus' throat caught on something it seemed, and nodded his thanks. His eyes went straight to Narcissa's and it was like they had exchanged a knowing look.

_Narcissa, check Pansy, St. Mungo’s. Soul Damage._

His best friend made a tiny nod of understanding, missed by everyone but a curious Hermione Granger. Of course she’d notice it.

He didn't look like the man he once was, the stoic yet respected teacher, who was always ready with a barbed comment... he looked relieved. The stress of his life was over, and his hair was starting to grey as if years of stress finally took its toll upon him in one fell swoop.

"Interim Minister, anyone else you need me to look at?" Healer Pye said, professionally polite. Narcissa's wand was out and faster than anyone would have guessed, whispering the 'Obliviate' charm.

"You saw too much carnage and needed to go outside for fresh air was all." Narcissa's voice carried just enough so that everyone knew his memory was being modified. The healer was helped out of the Headmaster's office and Severus struggled to stand.

"As long as there are…" Severus swallowed, wincing at the sound of his own voice, "Death Eaters on the loose, it is essential that my fate be hidden."

Everyone nodded their agreement; after hearing Harry's vocal defense of Severus to The Dark Lord right before his defeat, there was absolutely zero question as to his loyalty. It didn't hurt that his voice sounded like he gargled battery acid, and that it was apparent he barely survived multiple bites from Nagini.

Albus' portrait spoke up. “Agreed, Severus. Now that the war is over, the cleanup can begin. Kingsley, I take it you’re the interim Minister of Magic?”

Shacklebolt nodded, stunned at the revelations.

“Yes, but Albus, _he killed you-”_

“-under my orders, yes. And I sent Harry to his death, knowing that was the only way to destroy the final horcrux. We had _zero student fatalities_ under Voldemort’s reign. Impressive, considering how often the Carrows demanded blood for the students rebelling. If anyone else has any problems with how I won the war for us, speak…” the portrait trailed off, seeing Harry Potter. “...Harry, my boy… you’re alive?”

Harry nodded, feeling speechless in the moment.

“How do you survive?” Portrait Albus looked away in thought. “Unless you got-”

“-the Deathly Hallows.” The Boy Who Lived Again frowned at his father figure. “My entire life; being abused and neglected by muggles, showing me affection and kindness with the muggle sweets I _wasn’t allowed to have_ at home, had me facing off against echos and agents of Voldemort _nearly every year_ in Hogwarts in some way… it was all manipulation by you, wasn’t it? Training me to be the heroic pig walking to the slaughterhouse for some _noble purpose_?”

“My boy, I didn’t intend-”

“-I’M NOT YOUR BOY ANYMORE!” Harry snapped, his magic slipping out of his control and darkening the room slightly as he continued, seething. “You _raped_ my childhood, and _brainwashed me_ to be your sacrifice for The Greater Good. You’ve done **enough** damage.”

Albus’ genial old man facade dropped, and his poise changed into something potent and deadly. Minerva gasped at the shift, along with everyone else in the Order of the Phoenix, save Severus.

Albus continued, as flat and emotionless as any sociopath reading off a list a human body parts they have in an icebox. “You were already marked for death by Tom; it made sense to use you as the pawn to his downfall.”

Hermione remembered how she met Harry and Ronald, it was the only empty cabin in the Hogwarts Express. Rage flickered through her as she found it odd that of all the bathrooms she went to cry in, the troll found her.

“You put us together in the Hogwarts Express, and **_used me as bait_ ** for Quirrell’s troll, didn’t you?” Hermione felt the stowed wand beg to be pulled out, to be used, to destroy the manipulating old fool once and for all…

“I did what _I had to do._ If I hadn’t, the Order-”

 **“FUCK THE ORDER!”** Ron bellowed, his face red in anger. Severus could tell he was the worst off of the Golden Trio; Dark Magic had corrupted him to his magical core.

Portrait Albus was done with the discussion.

“Kingsley, please _silence the children_ so that we may continue our work. Now that we’re all assembled here-”

Minerva’s wand was out, transfiguring the bricks around Albus’ portrait to duplicate and rearrange themselves like the doorway to Diagon Alley, swallowing up and silencing the former Headmaster.

“Where were we?” Minerva asked calmly, “Severus, we’ll keep your secret, of course. I should have noticed your true allegiance; when we dueled, you deflected my spells to take out the Carrows.”

Severus nodded knowingly; the year long mistrust melting away and returning them to their age-old friendly rivalry.

“You admit I beat you to the punch with my ‘colleagues’, then?”

Minerva’s lip quirked up in a challenging sneer.

“I want a re-match; you were holding back.”

Kingsley looked towards the Slytherin Headmaster. "You'll help the Ministry track down and capture them all?" he asked.

"Capture? Yes. Kill?" Severus' face went to a careful neutral. "Depends."

Shacklebolt's face winced as if he had taken a bite into something extremely bitter.

"Depends on?"

" _Full immunity_ of my actions for the war. And I _will not_ be sent after the Grangers. Or my godson Draco."

"There are no charges against them." Kingsley said matter-of-factly.

"Yet."

* * *

 

HERMIONE

The single word held as much promise as it did threat. Hermione realized that if the Order's reaction were any indication, the rest of the Wizarding World would be out to get them, too.

Kingley nodded, and shook Severus' hand. "Very well; happy hunting. Now, onto the rest of the business... Let's all have seats."

McGonagall transfigured enough chairs for everyone, and Narcissa changed the chairs for her and Hermione into an elegant silver-and-cream chaise lounge that they could share. The brunette couldn't help but smile at Narcissa’s spellwork as she sat and was handed a cup of hot Darjeeling Tea by her wife.

"Oh thank you Cissy." She nodded a polite 'of course' as she sipped her own cup. Minerva quirked an eyebrow to Severus, who took in the exchange placidly.

"Wait, stop, you don't know what she put…" Molly trailed off worriedly as Hermione sipped the tea.

Hermione looked at Molly in astonishment. Did she really think that Narcissa would be so bold as to try and slip me something in front of everyone?

"Mrs. Weasley, it's just tea, she's not going to poison me in a room full of witnesses. Give her some credit as a Slytherin."

Severus made an amused grunt at that, the closest thing to laughing that he's done in ages.

"Well you don't have to be so cozy with the... _lemon._ " Molly replied, face scrunched in disgust at the pair of them. Even Arthur seemed to be repulsed at the closeness between the two witches sharing a cup of tea.

Narcissa spoke up, head tilted towards Hermione, but speaking for the whole room.

"It's a dated slur; she's calling me a lesbian."

Hermione’s hackles were raised; the family that accepted her and explained what ‘mudblood’ meant was homophobic.

"Mrs Weas... _Molly,_ I can't believe you. Considering what Cissy and I just did for the Wizarding World, you'd think that **maybe** warrants _some_ cordiality from you."

Defensive, Molly looked up to the walled-off portrait of Albus for an appeal. "Albus, please explain… I…" she huffed, realizing the futility of asking him, "I did not give you leave to use my given name."

Molly had looked up to Albus like a child seeking a different adult in the room after being told off. Narcissa looked sheepish and cowed again, and seeing her wife like this irked Hermione.

"Please, 'Mione, just let it go." She muttered quietly, her hand resting on my arm.

 _Hell no,_ Hermione thought, _I'm still a Gryffindor, dammit!_

Hermione whispered back to her wife. "No, Cissy, I won't stand for this." Her fingers swept the blonde hair back and tucked it behind her ear; the black-and-blonde somehow worked for her as the Gryffindor found her fingers trailing the Slytherin’s delicate jawline. “You deserve to be respected.”

Hermione’s eyes locked onto Molly.

"Then you may refer to me, _and my wife,_ as Mrs. Granger. If **anyone** points their wand at my Cissy again, we duel to kill."

Hermione felt very calm and certain about killing to defend Narcissa, and enjoyed the fear she saw in Molly's eyes in response.

As their eyes locked in the silence, Hermione wondered if Molly knew she could read her thoughts if she wanted to. Instead, the brunette reeled in her emotions and emulated the Ice Queen persona the best she could remember.

Kingsley cleared his throat, attempting to move on like nothing happened.

"Obviously, the Ministry is in chaos as You-Know-Who's supporters who held positions of power looted the coffers as fast as they could turn muggle-borns into the Soulless with the Dementors."

Severus and Narcissa exchanged an extended look between each other, making Hermione realize that they were able to communicate silently to each other.

"So _Umbridge_ is responsible for a few hundred dead people because she was put in charge of something? I'm not surprised." Hermione spat bitterly. Narcissa did an almost imperceptible shake of her head and their 'conversation' was over.

"Actually, it was over a thousand. At least many of them are still alive, after a fashion. They were detained in Azkaban." Kingsley replied sadly. "No souls left, and while my first act was to expel the Dementors from the prison, we have a lot of _empty people_ that will never think, or feel, or… anything… ever again."

"What... what's the humane thing to do?" Harry asked. "Can't we just put them in St. Mungo's, long-term spell damage ward?" _Like Neville's parents_ , but he didn't want to say it out loud.

"The hospital is for the living. If they have no soul left, they are just… shells. Useless shells." Narcissa said regretfully. “If that were me, I’d rather be dead.”

"Well, _my parents_ are there! They get taken care of, fed… _clothed…_ can't we do that?" Neville's voice cracked at that.

"Your parents aren't Soulless. They were tortured to insanity, yes, but they still know enough to eat the food in front of them, even if they forget how to use a fork. But when the soul is removed… they are empty of all desires, even eating food. They starve to death in two weeks." Narcissa's face held horror as she said that, eyes cast down in bitter memory.

Severus tried to clear his throat, and the resulting sound made everyone wince. "We should euthanize them. At this point, it’s the only humane thing to do."

"I can't... I can't just say, _'Let's kill these people'_." It was Arthur speaking up, and a part of Hermione wanted to agree with him.

"They will waste away in two weeks from starvation, though dehydration doesn't. It's a strange quirk; the Soulless don't need water." Narcissa replied, eyes focused on her tea.

"We’ll table that for now," Kingsley replied, "next up; we need to re-staff the ranks among the Hit Wizards and the Auror office. Harry, would you, Ron, Neville, and Hermione join the Aurors? I'll waive your NEWT requirements for your service in the war."

Harry gulped, but agreed. "How many are left?" Neville also nodded, knowing he would want to keep catching Dark Wizards.

"Dawlish, Savage, and Williamson all fell during the final battle. So did…" The rich voice cracked, "Tonks. Robards' is getting pretty old, so Proudfoot's the only Auror remaining."

Hermione was stunned at that; only one Auror remained for the entire Ministry of Magic. So much death has happened in the past year, and yet there was still more fighting to do, more lives to be risked to save others. She noticed the lack of Dean, Nigel, Romilda, and Leanne from the ranks of the D.A., who were still children and died for the cause.

The Gryffindor couldn't just voluntarily sign up for more carnage; not while she felt distracted and not right in her own head. She needed her old routine. She needed her Seventh Year and NEWT exams.

"Sorry, Kingsley… I need to go back and finish my schooling at Hogwarts. After what all happened, I need something relatively stable." She looked over to Ron, whose face looked equally haunted from the recent past.

"Same here." Harry looked at his best friend as if he didn't recognize him. "Well, not going back to Hogwarts, are you mad? I just… need a _normal life,_ maybe some laughs… gonna go help George with his shop." George teared up at it, and hugged his brother.

Kingsley nodded in understanding. “Severus, the Hit Wizards were replaced by You-Know-Who’s Snatchers, so we’re starting fresh. There’s a wizard, goes by the code name Thanatos, we’d like you to bring him him-”

“-The Death Phoenix? My protege will accept your offer.”

Kingsley was surprised at that.

“Very well; I also want to recruit two more agents, but we’ll have that conversation privately and their names kept secret under a wand oath.” His eyes flicked over to Fleur momentarily.

Hermione cleared her throat for attention, uncertain how this subject would go over with them.

“Kingsley, what about the Goblins? You must know they are furious at Wizard-kind…"

The older adults in the room either scoffed, rolled their eyes, or muttered to themselves.

The Interim Minister looked at Hermione as if she were very mistaken. “We won the war; wizard-kind did them all a massive favor.”  Narcissa even looked at her wife questioningly.

Hermione realized that she had her work cut out for her.

“Well, The Dark Lord _forced_ wizard security into their bank; taking away their autonomy. Of course they are going to be furious.”

There was a hint of worry growing among the rest, realization starting to dawn upon them.

"Honestly, Hermione, you can't believe that they are going to do anything… _unreasonable…_ " Minerva replied, hoping to have her fears assuaged; to be told nothing bad is coming like Fudge did even as the war was on his doorstep.

 _When forced to face a bitter truth and an impending threat, people would rather stick their heads in the sand,_ Hermione realized glumly.

 _"Mon Dieu!_ They kept _tortured dragon_ down there, _chained and blinded,_ in violation of all our laws, and then the Ministry under snake-face put wizard guards in charge? Of course they will exact their revenge! I’ve heard how they have wanted wands for a long time now." Fleur interjected.

"They can't even use wands!" Terry scoffed.

"The **_long-fingers_ ** forget their place!" Dedalus shouted.

"They **stole** the Sword of Gryffindor from us!" Ron exclaimed, which reminded Hermione that the sword fit Harry's hands when he was only 12, too small for an adult to wield.

It was Charlie Weasley of all Order members who sought to calm the group.

"They _could_ lodge a complaint and demand reparations, but Wizarding Law is clear: Dragon Fire caused the bank's collapse, and they weren't authorized to keep one there. They won't get a knut from us." Charlie's comment made everyone nod in agreement.

Hermione was surprised at the simple-minded logic that they all clung onto. _Goblins won’t recognize Wizarding Law._ That made her think more about Kingsley’s earlier threat, that laws could be _‘quite malleable in times of crisis’_.

"Kingsley, did the Ministry authorize the wholesale use of Unforgivables to Aurors in order to stop the Death Eaters like in the previous war?"

He nodded, paused, and gave a deep sigh. Harry and Neville looked at the interim minister in shock, leaving Narcissa to have to explain it to the aspiring Aurors.

"In the last war, they did this out of fear. Problem is, some of those spells are like a Pandora's Box; you can't just say 'stop' and expect them to. You can’t delve into Dark Magic a little bit and expect zero fallout later on."

Hermione looked to her wife, and understood.

_Kingsley was hiding something._

"What aren't you saying, Kingsley?" Hermione pressed, “What is Harry going to have to _clean up for you_?”

Kingsley actually looked ashamed at this.

"We haven't been able to find Proudfoot. He was having some… well, _ingenious ideas_ that, uh… were signed off by Scrimgeour days before his death."

Severus and Minerva both had grave faces.

"What did _Bedlam_ approve?" Severus pointedly asked.

Hermione didn't recognize the nickname, but knew most Aurors had one that reflected their attitude or ability. Everyone knew about Mad-Eye and Chameleon, but bedlam?

"Besides using the unknown asset that calls himself ‘Thanatos’, AKA the Death Phoenix? Bedlam wanted to ensure that the top lieutenants were given no quarter, would be hunted down whenever and wherever they were seen. But just for the really bad ones; the Death Eaters that we knew of. Our numbers were low, and we just didn’t have enough eyes across the country to find them, particularly if they were in hiding. We knew that they all would eventually make a mistake, but we might not be there to catch them."

They could all tell Shacklebolt was definitely hiding something.

"Out with it-" Minerva chided in that voice that left no room to argue.

"-innocent Witches and Wizards are under the Imperius Curse to live their normal lives until one of the Marked Death Eaters are seen. That's when the Curse takes over and they will stop at nothing to kill the target."

"Merlin's... that's..." Molly stuttered.

"Sleeper assassins, that's the type of Ministry we're trying to save." Hermione said coldly.

“We were at war, and we needed manpower.”

Narcissa went pale as her Slytherin Ice Queen mask dropped and she was the epitome of cold fury. Her voice was flat and chilled everyone in the room.

"So I can look forward to an unknown number of _innocent people_ trying to kill my son Draco, and quite possibly, myself."

_Compulsion or not, they don’t deserve to be hunted down like this. I have to defend my family._

Hermione shook the thought out of her head, unnerved in the way she instinctively called them family in her mind. But she did wonder if she would be willing to hurt and kill innocent people in self-defense. She found her fingers playing with the Wand of Destiny in its sheath inside her robes; it felt like it was calling to her.

_Let them try; I will slice a bloody swath through anyone in my way._

Gasping, Hermione pulled her hand away from the wand and paid attention to the argument before them.

"-she made her bed ages ago. Let vigilante justice _take the trash out._ " Molly's disgust of Narcissa was evident in her voice, setting Hermione on edge.

"My wife was not a Death Eater. She never took the mark, Mrs. Weasley, and I don't know _what_ your problem is with her, but she doesn't deserve death!"

“Her son is a Death Eater; I’ve seen his Dark Mark.”

Narcissa’s voice cracked.

“He didn’t consent to take it though; if you only knew about _half_ of the things he had to endure, you wouldn’t be calling him that. If you had any motherly love in your heart, you’d understand. Instead you’re just a _bitter, hateful shrew._ ”

“If you think your sod-”

"-Ladies," interrupted Kingsley, "we have more _vital issues_ to deal with, like capturing the rogue Death Eaters and burying You-Know-Who's remains. Also there's a Ball already being planned to commemorate the fallen during the war and award Order of Merlin medals... "

As Narcissa panicked at that, Hermione couldn’t help but find her wife as starkly beautiful.

"What? _Bury?_ More like behead, burn in separate fires, and _scatter the ashes in two different rivers flowing in opposite directions!_ "

Hermione wondered what in Merlin’s name she was going on about.

"What? That's a bit overkill." Shacklebolt said warily.

"We couldn't do that even if we wanted to." Hermione replied, discouraged, “your sister Bellatrix took his body and apparated away from the battle.”

"No, no… no, no, no…" Narcissa went ghostly pale, eyes watering in sheer horror. “She knows… _Slytherin’s Snake and all his mudblood whores_ …”

Hermione couldn’t even chastise her wife’s language as her skin started to crawl with an ominous feeling; it dawned on her Bellatrix’s specialty was necromancy.

Harry spoke up, equally worried now.

“What can she do with it?”

* * *

BELLATRIX

Heavily warded in a Romanian forest, Bellatrix rocked the rotting remains of Lord Voldemort in her arms as one would a small child. Though the last slip of soul had been lost, Bella had been able to coax an imprint of him to exist on this side of reality, though the cost was great and taxed the entirety of her sanity.

"I shall do your bidding as always, Master."

Cuddling the inhuman skull as if it were her own baby and keeping it warm upon her breast, she nursed it with the only thing she had left: her soul.

 


	10. "The Greater Good"

SEVERUS

Severus watched the exchange between Hermione and Narcissa, and sat up slightly as he was surprised to see Narcissa conjure tea for the pair of themselves. He looked over to Minerva, his Gryffindor counterpart who had an equally surprised yet interested attitude about the exchange.

_It's been less than a week,_ Severus mused, _and they seem to have fallen into some sort of domestic pattern._

That Hermione took the tea without checking it bode well for them, not to mention her dry humor. Obviously Narcissa wouldn't poison her in front of so many witnesses. He looked to his childhood friend and wondered if the attraction could have been genuine, despite the magic at play.

Minerva adjusted her glasses at the cute exchange, her tell that she saw something in her young Gryffindor. He and Minerva had verbally sparred countless times over the years who had the best student was at Hogwarts, and she had naturally sided with Hermione. He would have to probe her insight to the young lady's attitude toward relationships, and see if there was any way to ensure Narcissa would not be hurt - though genuine marital bliss seemed highly unlikely.

Molly Weasley was, ironically, the typical Pureblood; full of anti-homosexual rhetoric. The Potions Master noticed that the younger generation, particularly the ones who were raised in the Muggle world, didn't seem to carry the same animus as the older ones from 'respectful Pureblood stock'.

_Like Crabbe and Goyle,_ Severus mused, _best that they not reproduce._

Hermione whispered something to his friend, tucking a lock of Cissy’s hair behind her ear. It was a gentle, protective gesture that comforted him. Narcissa smiled back to her, one of the small, genuine ones that are quite rare for her.

_Maybe there is hope for them,_ he wondered.

The young Gryffindor faced Molly, and Severus folded his hands at the Headmaster's Desk to watch the exchange with his most neutral expression.

"Then you may refer to me, _and my wife,_ as Mrs. Granger. If **anyone** points their wand at my Cissy, we duel to kill."

_Ten points to Gryffindor for silencing her,_ Severus mused, _and for a successfully intimidating threat._

Kingsley broke up the row, hoping that it would pass over. Severus thought that the Interim Minister had to know that this would come to a head someday, if not sooner. He went on to say that the Ministry was financially broke due to looting by the Death Eaters and other supporters of the Dark Lord. Narcissa's eyes met Severus' and she did the slow blink that signaled she wanted to communicate via legilimancy.

_'Severus... can you hear me?'_

Severus arched an eyebrow. _Obviously._

_'I think there is something wrong with Hermione. She seems... I worry that she's going Dark.'_

Severus glanced at the young woman; _she was always known to have a fiery temper just below the surface, Narcissa._ _I daresay she's stressed out and needs to find her footing. I also happened to notice that nobody here seems to be bringing up The Wand of Destiny, nor Potter's idiotic public confession that it is his now._

_'Call it the DeathStick. It does Death. Don't turn it into any more of a legend.'_

Severus realized that he had noticed Hermione fidget with the wand-holster in her tactical robes while her wand was openly out in her hand.

_She is in possession of it, isn't she? It won't do her mental faculties any favors if she does wield it. If anything, it can quicken mental deterioration in order to twist her to use the Elder Wand._

_'I can't be certain, but between having killed for the first time, stress from the war, and becoming married? I'm impressed she hasn't fallen apart entirely.'_ Narcissa shook her head ever so slightly. _'Thanks, but… I'm just worried this won't work out.'_

* * *

HERMIONE

The meeting was over, and Hermione was looking forward to a soft bed and a full night's rest. Her adrenaline was fighting a losing battle with exhaustion and she could tell she was getting grumpy with every dagger-glare Molly had for herself and Cissy.

_What the hell is her problem, anyways?_

Harry crossed the room and hugged his friend, and she was grateful for the moment of relative normalcy.

"It's been like, what… _three days_ since I saw you last, the war's over, and you got a wife? Everything okay there?"

Hermione nodded, realizing how so much has happened in so little time. "Huh. Yeah, I guess it's fine. I just… just trying to get to normal life."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that.

“We’ve been many things, ‘Mione. _‘Normal’_ wasn’t one of them.”

The pair laughed at that, sadly realizing how true it was. Their lives were defined by the threat of Voldemort for so long, they really didn’t have any idea who they would be once the war was over.

She looked at her friend curiously, noting that his scar had faded… unlike the mark on her wrist. She took a second look at it, casting a cleaning charm on his face.

“Harry, ever hear of the Mandela Effect? It’s when you remember something different than the way it actually happened?”

He shook his head no.

“Why?”

“Well, I thought your scar faded, so I cast a tergeo charm-”

“-yeah, I felt that-”

“-but, your scar. It’s gone.” Hermione conjured a mirror and handed it to him. “I’ve just been so used to seeing it there, I must have been filling it in subconsciously.”

Harry snatched the mirror, looking at his reflection and tracing his fingers where the scar should have been.

“It is… it’s gone! He’s really gone. It’s over…” Harry gasped in amazement.

Hermione pulled back her sleeve, the Ouroboros mark as dark as ever.

“Mine’s not.”

Harry saw it, putting a comforting hand over hers.

“It’s not a Horcrux though, so maybe it will fade slower over time.”

She shook her head, panic giving her a second wind as exhaustion was swept away.

“No, Harry, you don’t get it… The Dark- Voldemort- twisted the Unbreakable Vow on me to do his explicit bidding, or I die. It’s still active, so… what if it’s infecting me with Dark Magic like the locket did to us?”

Harry nodded gravely. “Well, better you than Ron, he was the most vulnerable to that. What did he order you to do?”

Hermione cringed slightly at that, not certain how to say it.

“To, uh, get Narcissa pregnant.”

Harry burst out laughing.

“That’s impossible; and now he’s dead for good, so… don’t worry about it. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Hermione nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

“Yeah, Harry,” she nodded, relief filling her, “you’re right. Thanks.”

“So, you’re really going back to Hogwarts to do your seventh year? That is, definitively, the _Most Hermione_ thing you could do."

The Golden Girl smiled back at her friend, taking the compliment for what it was.

"And you're going to go off and be an Auror? Please be safe out there." She said as he promised that he would, the pair of them walking down the spiral staircase.

Narcissa was in discussion with Severus, as a reticent Molly perched nearby as if wanting to talk to him but also keeping a wary distance from the former Malfoy. Hermione couldn’t help but smirk at the situation, it was an errant school child hoping for a word with the Headmaster.

"-about your parents?" Harry asked.

"What?”

“I said, what are we going to do about your parents?” Harry reiterated.

“I want to be certain the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds are safe before I bring them back."

Harry agreed, idly wondering where his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin were. He yawned, and Hermione couldn’t help but look him over with concern. In a way, he was always going to be one of her boys. Her mind went back to when they shared a tent on the run, and how she would often made something to pass for dinner and put him to bed as she took the first shift at watch.

"Have you gotten any real food or rest, yet?" She asked, wondering how long he had been awake.

"No... Not since we left Shell Cottage, before the bank… happened.”

“You need sleep. I do too, but at least I got a few hours at my Manor.”

“So, _your_ manor, huh?” He asked, curious.

“Can’t help it, it’s creeping into my vocabulary,” Hermione downplayed with a shrug. “And you’re changing the subject. You need rest.”

“I’ve been a bit busy, you know..." Harry scoffed, “saving the world and all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as Ron caught up, crooked grin on his face.

"Pretty certain _dying and coming back from the great beyond_ really takes it out of you, huh, _‘Chosen One’."_ Ron’s playful mocking slipped the trio back into their friendly banter.

Hermione saw Ron looking at her, and, for the first time ever, she couldn’t decipher the look on his face.

Harry cleared his throat, speaking with uncertainty.

“Um, Kreacher, could you-"

The house elf popped into existence right before him.

"-Hi. Yes. Would you please bring up some food for my friends and myself to... The Gryffindor Common room?"

The elf bowed, "Of course, Master Potter." And he disappeared just as quickly.

"Thanks, Kreacher..." Harry said oddly to the empty space before him. Ron turned to the D.A. members filing out and called out to them **'Gryffindor Tower!'**

"What about us Hufflepuffs?"

"...and Ravenclaws?"

Hermione’s face broke into a smile.

"Of course! We all worked together, we all eat together!"

_We have to break down the barriers between the houses,_ Hermione thought, _maybe this will help._

Harry and Hermione went through the portrait hole to be surprised that Severus and Narcissa were already eating in the common room.

Ron followed soon behind them, the first to speak up.

"How the hell did you two get in here?"

"We were invited, correct?" Narcissa asked with a playful smirk.

Ron scoffed at that.

"I mean, you got here sooner AND past the fat lady's portrait! That’s password protected!" Ron clarified, moving to stand protectively between them and Hermione.

Hermione’s wife just smiled and let him struggle for a few seconds before she relented. "Window. When I was a student I'd fly up here to see..." She stopped herself as Arthur had just entered, "...someone."

Hermione sat next to Narcissa, and the boys followed her lead. "Cissy, you know my good friends Harry and Ron." She gestured back to the blonde, "and this is my wife, Narcissa Granger."

Harry made to shake her hand, but realized how foolish that seemed right then. Ron did a nervous little tick of his head that was meant to be a nod.

"So, uh, how did that happen?" Ron asked. The common room seemed to grow silent, and Hermione could feel every pair of eyes in the room fall on her.

"Well you were there, sort of. When Dobby went to get us out of my - Malfoy's - Manor… Bellatrix threw that dagger; he flinched as he saw it coming."

Harry looked uneasy. "Are you really _blaming Dobby_ for this?"

Narcissa and Hermione shook their heads at that. "Of course not… He was a brave elf for what he did…" Cissy's words stunned the trio.

"Didn't know Malfoys gave two knuts about your slaves." Ron scoffed.

"Ronald, I am _not_ Lucius; Dobby stood up for what he believed in, and I have to respect that. I was claim I was under my husband’s control, but honestly, I was coward and just stood there as my sister tortured Hermione. I had to stand for a lot of horrible things that happened in that house for decades… not just because Lucius ordered me to, but because I _used to_ think that I was fighting to preserve my heritage." She looked like she was about to tear up. “But not like this. If I knew it would have turned out this way, I’d have smuggled Draco to the Americas and given him up to an orphanage. I’ve had to watch him be tortured until he’d use the Cruciatus Curse on me, just to please The Dark Lord.”

Hermione clasped her wife’s hand in a reassuring manner before taking over the reminiscing.

"Anyways," Hermione continued, "I found myself alone there, a wand at my feet clutched in… Dobby’s… severed arm hand."

_Oh god, I didn't remember that last part until now..._

Both boys cringed at that, Hermione realizing that Harry must had dealt with a dying Dobby who must have bled out. So she did the only thing she could; soldiered on through the rest of the story.

"So I used the most lethal spell I could think of. _Sectumsempra_. Lucius…" She closed her eyes and shuddered as the memory of the smell hit her, barely holding back the urge to retch. It was a type of tunnel vision, affecting all of her senses as the memory played too vividly in her mind. "I could smell…"

Narcissa's hand was on her wife’s shoulder, helping Hermione’s resolve as she opened her eyes again, her body apparently trembling.

"She killed Lucius by slicing him in half, and she claimed Rite of Succession before The Dark Lord arrived."

Hermione looked to the blonde, the memories going blurry after Lucius fell to the ground.

"How did you know they did that?" Ron asked, "Most couples don't do those kind of Bondings anymore."

Hermione shook her head, confused but resolved to answer the question.

"I didn't… It's all still a blur. I was put into the dungeons because Vol- Voldemort must have showed up and… I guess it was Narcissa protecting me. I thought it was odd, to be honest, until Bellatrix raised Wormtail as an Inferi to kill me with no witnesses present." Hermione tried to piece the details together to become a coherent memory.

_Was my memory blocked, or is this some sort of post-trauma stress?_

Narcissa continued, a wistful half-smile on her face.

"She cried out for me to help, and I couldn't refuse her. I began to realize that I was probably under the Compulsion when The Dark Lord deliberated our fates." Narcissa added soberly.

"He was _very angry_ about losing Potter, and apparently Goyle and McNair's failure to secure the support of Dominika’s kiss of vampires had him fuming about their incompetence. You have to understand that he'd been growing more unstable and irrational over time and we all feared his wrath.

"He tasked me to..." she swallowed, exhaling a self-composing breath, "breed with Hermione and give birth to a new generation of intelligent, half-blood Death Eaters. And before you ask, yes, it's possible. It was that, or die, so we had to agree. The next day, we bumped into you at Gringotts."

Ron pieced this together as House-elves brought in platters of food. "Brilliant, thanks..." He mumbled to the elves as he put together a plate for himself. "So, did you two do it?"

"Actually-" Narcissa started, feeling awkward about broaching the conversation of sex with people her son’s age.

"Cissy, no!" Hermione said sharply, and Narcissa flinched as if she _had to_ obey the order. "That's _personal,_ Ronald. I'm not about to ask what all happened between you and… Lav-Lav…"

That seemed to silence him. Harry, however, looked thoughtful. "You mentioned something called the 'Compulsion'. Is that… like the Imperius Curse?" Narcissa looked thoughtful as she made her reply.

"In a word: maybe? It's different than if I were to cast the Unforgivable and _force you_ to go eat all the chocolate ice cream and gain 2 stones…" Her eyes met Hermione as they both tried to keep a straight face.

"Why would that be a bad thing?" Ron asked, clearly missing the point.

Narcissa chuckled. "I'd make a horrible Dark Lady."

Hermione smiled, realizing that she was making a real effort to be liked by her friends, even if in her own way.

"The Compulsion is more vague, when it’s not a direct order; instead of **'you will eat this ice cream'** , it would simply be a very strong suggestion that makes you crave something cold and tasty. You could completely ignore it, or out-reason it by realizing the ice cream will just go to your hips… also strong emotions can overcome it, albeit only temporarily. This curse was modified for Bondings in order to keep a relationship strong and healthy, but ours was twisted specifically to have Lucius in charge, as I had proven to be a potential embarrassment to the Malfoys because of my inclinations."

Ron and Harry looked at her questioningly.

“Because she prefers the company of women.” Severus stated plainly with a roll of his eyes.

"So, Hermione _isn't_ being forced to… _like you_ against her will?" Ron asked. Hermione squirmed slightly at that, as she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

"Cissy, enough." Hermione said, making Narcissa shut her mouth quickly, looking sullen. "See, that was her having to obey a direct order. Also she can't speak against me or insult me without suffering immense pain. In fact, she hasn't been able to call me a mudblood, if you've noticed."

Narcissa glared daggers at her wife for a split second, turning her face away as her voice went cold.

"I’ll have you know I quit believing in _‘Pureblood supremacy’_. But… some of the words I’ve used are just habit.”

Arthur let out a breath in exasperation, finally chiming in.

“Habit?! Why was it a _habit_ in the first pla-”

“-you have to understand where we were coming from. There was an historic increase of squib births, and it appeared that, with the influx of Muggle-borns, that the society we Purebloods built centuries before was slowly dying out. It scared a lot of us, you know." Narcissa replied, finishing her plate of fruit.

Hermione remembered the Arithmantic formulas her wife had shown her; Purebloods were a generation or two from dying out, and half-blooded witches and wizards would be the only way forward as squibs and muggle-borns continued to rise in number.

"So that makes all this okay, then?" Lavender Brown said, a fierce look on her werewolf-scarred face. She would never be as stunning as she was before, and no Healer was certain if she would transform into a werewolf the following month.

“Actually, no,” Narcissa answered, sitting straighter, “It doesn't. Our different cultures need to blend and co-exist. Dumbledore’s ignoring of our traditions and history in school has made you ignorant of powers that exist out there. If anything, I think we may need to start adding a Pureblood studies curriculum, just like we have the Muggle courses."

"Well _Carrow_ did a **fine job** with her class, didn’t she?" Neville spat.

"I'm _not saying_ we need to teach _Pro-Pureblood_ propaganda, nor _Anti-Pureblood_. But there is a lot in both Pureblood and Muggle cultures that need to be understood, both the good and the bad." Narcissa cooly replied, and it shut everyone up for a moment.

"So does this mean you're gay, ‘Mione?" Ron blurted out.

"No-" I replied automatically, but Narcissa's response cut me off.

"-Yes-"

Narcissa was trembling, and Hermione automatically held her hand in support. "It's okay." She nodded as she spoke up. She took a deep breath, and Hermione could see the subtle tells of her nervousness.

"I am. I'm a lesbian. Knew it back in third year." Narcissa seemed to have a weight shifted off of herself, even as her eyes darted towards Arthur Weasley.

Harry shrugged. "I knew I wanted to date Ginny in my third year.” Narcissa smiled as her wife’s best friend seemed to take in in stride. “So, what's your plan for the summer? School resumes as soon as they rebuild it, I suppose."

Hermione thought about it as she let go of Narcissa's hand. "I need to get my parents."

Narcissa frowned at that. "Oh, yes, of course! I'll help; you can… consider it our honeymoon."

Hermione looked to her wife in terror, shaking her head.

_This was my family, it's personal, and I don't think I want to show up with my new wife in tow that's their age..._

"Uh, no, I can manage by myself."

"But ‘Mione, I insist. I'd like to… leave this country for a few days myself."

_I need my space,_ Hermione thought in a panic, _doesn’t she realize she's suffocating me?!_

"Cissy, why are you so adamant about this? I don’t even know how I’m going to break… us… to them.”

Narcissa tried to help her wife see reason.

“But I can help smooth it over; I’m good at being diplomatic.”

Frustration snapped in Hermione, making her want to lash out at the target _annoying_ her.

“Look, there's nothing _'in it'_ for you, okay? It's not like I'm going to just _wake up one morning_ and be okay with being married to you without my consent!"

Narcissa stood up and paced away. "Ugh, you are such an insufferable… _Elizabeth Bennet_!"

Hermione was awestruck. _Did she just make a literary reference to_ _Pride and Prejudice_ _? And how am I Lizzy?_

"Oh, am I, _Lady Catherine?_ ”

"I’m Fitzwilliam Darcy, obviously. I may be seen as the cold and socially maladjusted one, but if you analyze my actions, you'll see that **I always do what's best** for someone. It just requires that _somebody_ get over their **pride** and let go of their **prejudice**."

Severus traded a surprised look with Minerva as Harry's shock was reflected in Ron.

Narcissa huffed, smoothed her robes, and nodded a polite goodbye to Harry and Severus. "Thank you for your hospitality; feel free to come visit whenever. Hermione, you may call on Herpy to get you home." With that, the Slytherin turned and stalked out of Gryffindor Tower, leaving Hermione confused with the feelings brewing inside of her.

Before Hermione could get up to follow after her, George Weasley stepped in the way.

"Um, Hermione… she's angry right now, let her go…" There was a calmness in his voice, and Hermione realized he was worried that she might overreact.

“But she’s upset. I should…” Hermione looked around at the other guys who seemed to agree with George. “...I should go comfort her."

George nodded, slowly.

"Yes, but, take it from me and the other blokes here who have dated women. When she's angry, she wants you to know _why_ she is angry before you try to approach her. Also, you need to let her calm down a bit first."

_Well, that makes sense,_ Hermione realized as the urge to fight left her.

"I just know that she's _trying_ to get on my good side; wants to go with me to see my parents, but…" she cringed at the thought, "I have no idea how I'll explain this to them."

Hermione let out a long breath resignedly.

Harry spoke up then. "But that's… not the reason she’s upset at you."

"I sent my parents off by myself. I want to rescue them by myself as well." Hermione responded, sitting back down. “...there’s something else going on here, isn't there?

Severus conjured two cups of tea. "She seemed upset before that; in fact, she seemed quite upset when you two came to the Headmaster's Office."

She looked at the offered tea, puzzled.

"It's decaffeinated. Should soothe your nerves." His voice still unnerved me with the raspy, broken timbre in it.

Harry nodded, handing his friend a biscuit. “If McGonagall were here, she’d tell you to have this.”

Hermione took the cookie and took a bite before looking to the Headmaster.

"You're friends with her, right? Why is she mad at me?" Hermione asked, sipping the warm tea.

_Merlin, this is better than Cissy's. How close are they?_

"I daresay you are being profoundly ignorant, if not - _entirely_ \- obtuse." Severus muttered, sipping his own tea, "Narcissa holds you in high regard and isn't fighting the situation that has made you two... _spouses._ She's attempting to support you and, in return, has received your repeated rejection."

"But I _don't want_ her help! I **didn't ask** to be married to her…" Hermione dunked the biscuit and finished it, not knowing how to deal with this situation.

_It's not some sort of exam that I can just revise well in order to pass._

Cold eyes glared at her and Hermione looked up and met Lavender's eyes. Her face was partly healed, but the scars didn’t line up. _Or was that her face not lining up?_ Up close, it was not just disconcerting, but downright creepy. Hermione gulped, looking away.

"No. Hermione, take a _good look_ at me." Her eyes trailed the scars, having healed in a crooked fashion, and Hermione flinched away from them. "All of the scars. **Take. A. Look.** "

It was hard to focus on them, as some of the wounds were still weeping puss and blood.

"I'm... sorry." Hermione said, feeling truly sorry for her being attacked; her thought going to the scarred word she could hide; the word 'MUDBLOOD' and the Ouroboros tattoo around the wrist.

"Oh leave off…" Her voice cracked, but sounded resolved in a way Hermione never expected from her. "Collin used to say I had a _radiant smile,_ and wanted to capture the… _perfect picture_ of me. He got between me and Fenrir; _saved my life_ ." The last part was said regretfully, her face hardened from what should have been decades of sorrow and regret, yet no tears would come. "I knew he fancied me, but I just kept ignoring him. Hell, I could have at least _snogged him_ once. So, **to hell** with you and your **_pouting_ ** , Granger. _You_ still have your friends and you know you're loved. She seems to be making an effort, which is a lot more than what some of us have."

_Damn, she's right. I'm being all Cho Chang for myself when other people have it much harder. Have lost a lot more._

"I just don't know about Narcissa though. She says she doesn't hate us Muggle-born, but her family has a history of hatred and prejudice."

As Lavender backed away, Luna took her place.

"Hermione? I was a prisoner of Malfoy Manor… Harry and Mister Dobby rescued me, and while we were imprisoned and knew we couldn't escape, she kept the dungeon warm, we were regularly fed, and given clean water to drink, at great risk to herself. If it weren't for Narcissa’s mercy, we would have died long before anyone would come looking for us. I'm never going to be her good friend or anything… but she was decent to me."

Ron moved closer and wrapped Hermione in an embrace, quickly followed by Harry doing the same.

"It’s going to be okay, 'Mione." Ron said, his embrace firm and reassuring, “We’ll figure this out; you’ll go to the library and find a book-”

“-and tell us what to do. Okay?” Harry finished, making Hermione smile as she realized how long it had been since they hugged; it seemed to fulfill a chasm within her.

"Thanks. Both of you." She replied as Ginny came over, hand extended for him. Harry only had eyes for her though as he left with her. Ron and Hermione chuckled at the exchange.

"Does he know he's wrapped around her finger?" she asked.

"Merlin, no. But he's happier that way." Ron replied, "Not sure I could date such a bossy girl."

Hermione was shocked at that, playfully slapping his arm. "Ronald Weasley, how long have you known me?"

He scoffed. "Well, you don't count..."

"Thanks, Ronald."

"Well, I mean… Look. You're no longer dating blokes like other girls do."

Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

"Well spotted. It doesn't mean I still don't like guys, though."

Ron’s eyebrow raised curiously at that.

"So you're saying I still have a chance?" His smile was infectious, and she beamed at him. It almost felt like old times. Almost.

"Sure, except that I have a _wife to look after,_ a Ministry and a school to rebuild, _and_ go back to school in the fall."

_And a potential Goblin Rebellion._

"So, you'll be a bit busy, I guess." Ron replied, his fingers trailing over his friend’s hand.

_Weasley, where was this ages ago?_

"Hey Ron, I need to know something. Professor McGonagall and your mother don’t seem to trust me. Is it just because of Narcissa, or is there something else?"

"Oh, yeah… remember when mum found out we were planning on ditching the Burrow right before the wedding? Apparently she was under the impression we'd be at home, safe and sound every night, as the Order somehow defeated You-Know… Vol-Voldemort," he stuttered but got the name out, "all while you, me, and Harry were safe and sound and didn't even break a nail."

Hermione couldn't help but snort in laughter. "Merlin, they thought we were going to stay hidden as the adults took care of it?!" Apparently they underestimated the Golden Trio.

"Yeah, apparently the three of us planning to abandon the Order meant that we _couldn't be trusted_ with the war effort, no matter how much Remus argued that they **should** trust in Harry to lead the fight."

Hermione thought about that, and how he and Tonks died in the Final Battle.

"What happened to their son, Teddy?" She asked concernedly. Ron smiled sadly.

"Andi was going to raise him by herself… but Harry's taking his role as Godfather to heart and setting up rooms for the baby and the grandmother to live with him in Grimmauld Place. Decent thing to do, I suppose. Boys need a father."

Hermione yawned, not wanting to argue that two mothers could do just as well as a mother and father. "Well, The Dark Lord wanted me to 'father' Death Eaters with Narcissa." She shuddered at the memory, glad that he was dead and gone.

"Yeah, about that… how was that-"

"-Potion." She looked around the common room and saw people either leaving or going upstairs to find a bed to crash on for a bit.

"Oh. But how would you-" Ron was baffled. Not that a vexed Ron was unusual, but this was quite a strange thing.

"-Ronald, are you _seriously asking_ how I had sex with her?"

Hermione wasn't sure if this was an awkward boundary issue or just something that guy friends would chat about. Of course, there were all sorts of questions from her female  dorm-mates when it came out that she was dating Viktor.

"Oh! No… not trying to be some sort of _leering pervert_ … I just don't get how you _could_ get her pregnant."

Hermione shrugged, throwing caution to the wind. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe she wanted to get to bed, but she cast the muffliato and pressed on.

"The potion gave me some… well, it gave me a… _you know._ " His eyes widened in shock.

"Huh. That's…" his face went from surprised to fascinated. "How big was it?"

"Ronald!" Hermione chastised, "Do you ask all the other boys about their… _size?_ "

"No," he mumbled, "just Harry. I hit puberty and was told by Dad that a lot of things would change. Anyways, I'm 14, what about you?" It took her a moment before I realized he meant centimeters.

"Um, well, mine was just the potion's doing, not **_me_ **per se but, um…"

"Oh go ahead tell me, I won't tell anyone. George keeps saying I'm the runt of the litter, as it were."

_Bollocks, he won't shut up until… Fine._

"Just under seventeen. But I was told it's more about the width and girth, though." She cringed at the look on her friend’s face.

_Oh this is probably the worst conversation I've ever had. Please, make it stop._

" **Bloody Hell.** I…" Ron was dumbstruck. "I think I need to go obliviate myself now…" He got up and walked away as she finished the food on her plate.

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa saw the unusually frail form of Pansy Parkinson on her hospital bed in St. Mungo’s, the ward stones glowing to display her vital signs at a tap. Pansy had been given a potion for pain that had knocked her out, but was doing nothing to actually repair the soul damage.

_Because soul magic is considered forbidden knowledge,_ she thought, _and they would rather remain ignorant than actually heal people._

“Pansy, can you hear me?”

Her eyes opened and closed tightly, squinting as she adjusted to the brightness in the room.

“Mrs. Mal- sorry, Granger is it?” She tried to sit up, head spinning slightly, before she relented and laid flat down again.

“Yes it is. Thank you for saving my wife and son when you did.”

The younger Slytherin turned her head to face the unusually warm matriarch. She had never heard sincere gratitude from an adult Pureblood, and she wrapped it around her like a warm blanket on a chilly day.

“How did you know?”

Cissy curled her lip in a playful rendition of the classic Malfoy sneer.

“A Slytherin never reveals _all_ her secrets.”

Pansy gave her a dry glare that resembled Severus’ trademark sass in the classroom.

“Draco told me,” Narcissa hedged, “I'm his mother; he's quite fond of you.”

Pansy scoffed at that.

“Okay, I used legilimency.”

Parkinson raised an eyebrow at that.

“Cissy, I can tell when you’re lying. I taught him myself so he and Pansy could-”

Narcissa leaned in, fascinated by the verbal slip.

“-so **_that's_ **what Severus meant by soul damage. You'll need to adjust your occlumency so Sev’s bit of self won't speak through you.”

Pansy’s heart rate shot up, and a quick flick of Cissy’s wand adjusted the alert and medical record to keep the medi-witches from coming in to check on her.

“Is my… _identity…_ protected?”

“Well _quite a few_ death Eaters died right as the war ended, all with some cleverly placed bolts of green spellfire that _apparently_ got blamed on friendly fire. Don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about. Nobody but myself and Draco will correlate you with the Death Phoenix.”

Pansy nods in relief, visibly relaxing back into the bed as Narcissa casts the usual diagnostic charms and read the notes on the medical chart by the foot of her bed.

“Well, this all looks well in hand, however you'll need the soulgament potion to finish healing the frayed bits to avoid rejection-”

Pansy flinched at that, almost rambling as the words came unbidden.

“-No, it's fine. Sev doesn't seem to mind, it’s almost like part of him feels comfortable in a witch's body. But you already knew that because you're his best friend-”

“-I _implore you_ to cease and engage your Occlumency-”

“-and he knows all about you and…” Pansy’s face contorts in shock, “SLYTHERINS SNAKE YOU AND MY MOM!” She gasps in near revulsion. “...with his…”

“Well, I did try to warn you.” Narcissa pulls out and holds up the vial of soulgament potion, which Pansy takes willingly.

“Okay, I just… already saw so much horror and regret through him, I didn't expect-”

“He's a private man for things like that and _so much more._ ”

Pansy looked to her life-long friend’s mother and and had to shrug off the sensation that Cissy was always there for her.

“Why do I want to call you Cissy?”

“Bleeding Effect, I take it. Similar to my urge to find Hermione’s familiar and my, um, in-laws.”

“Severus is worried about Miss Granger's mindset since the infusion of Dark Magic since she won the Elder… wait, I thought Harry…?”

Narcissa nodded, intrigued at what this meant.

“So the link between you and Severus is concurrent and not just an echo? Fascinating.”

Pansy downed the potion, grimacing at the flavor.

“Apparently. I asked Fawkes to go back and heal Sev some more; he can’t face the Death Eaters on the run with that limp, and his voice…”

Narcissa nodded. “Thank you; Sev’s apparently got his Occlumency shields up so high he couldn’t sense you, hence why he sent me.”

Pansy chuckled at that. “No, he thinks I need a friend. And,” she winced in discomfort as the potion took effect, making her sigh in relief, “he needs you to secure Spinner’s End, and to bring me a… Brimstone Potion?”

Narcissa gasped at that.

“But, you’re barely an adult.”

She shook her head sadly.

“No younger than Sev was,” she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, “Ministry wants us to round up the worst offenders.” She opened her eyes and saw Cissy again, seeing her with an entirely new perspective. “Can you get it for me? I just need you to get past the wards and Fawkes can do the rest.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding.

“Yes, I’ll go do that.”

Pansy smiled at her.

“Thanks, and… while Sev might be worried about Hermione, you’re going to need to give her some time to accept her new fate. Too many of us were being pressured into taking the Mark, so I can only imagine what it’s like for her to be Bonded to you and have feelings and thoughts that would have felt utterly foreign a few days ago.”

Narcissa smiled back, certain that the echo of Severus was what made this feel so natural between them.

“Thank you, anything else?”

“Just refill my water please.”

Cissy tapped her wand to the glass, gently casting _aguamenti_ to fill it.

“In case I didn’t say it already, thank you for saving my friend.”

* * *

HERMIONE

"Might I join you?" The harsh tones jolted her at first, but Hermione nodded for Snape to sit. That potion she took to make love with Narcissa was not just his creation, but of **him**.

"You didn't just hear that last part, did you?" She asked sheepishly.

"No, my muffliato charm works _perfectly._ " She looked up at him in shock. "I can recognize my own spells, Granger."

"Oh, okay. May I ask about..."

_Don't say ‘penis’. Please don't even think of it…_

"Lily?"

Severus looked at her curiously, but nodded once. She thought that he might be the only person who could understand what she was going through.

"You did all this for her because you loved her… well, was it… enough? _Is it_ enough to love someone selflessly and be utterly alone for life… or were you willing to find, uh, _temporary comfort_ with someone - anyone - just because it's convenient?”

Severus shook his head. "No. It didn't keep my bed warm at night. Nor did the lack of companionship fulfill my need for… suitable conversation. No, Miss Granger. In the end, we all need someone."

Hermione teared up at that. _That's what I am afraid of…_

"That being said, having someone who truly _does_ love you and will fight alongside you makes living so much easier. You have that chance now; don't waste it."

"I'm sorry. Do-" She looked at him, truly taking in the aging he had gone through in the past year. His neck was heavily scarred, and his hair had started to go grey in a few strands. Overall it made him look... _even more ominous_ than before. "Do you think you'll move on and find someone? I hope I do."

Severus looked like he was caught off-guard. "I did, but… she chose another. What do you need to 'move on' from, Misses Granger?"

She let out a breath. "Well, Narcissa, obviously. That is, once I figure out how to _undo_ the Compulsion Curse. I mean, it's no use to get annulled if I'm still stuck needing and desiring her. She would be better off finding someone who is more compatible for her."

Severus nodded, but Hermione seemed able to read his tells better now. _He disagreed._

"I see. How many of your peers would, _or even could,_ cite the works of Jane Austen? Or even Brontë? How many Purebloods do you think have read muggle literature? And who would refer to their characters in the midst of a dispute that could only be termed as a _lover's quarrel?_ "

Hermione frowned at that. "I don't know. I just _don't think that I'm ready_ to settle down and be married by my eighteenth birthday. Okay, _technically,_ I’m already nineteen due to abusing the time-turner, but that’s different.”

Severus steepled his hands before him, giving a practiced, patient look he must have perfected in the years of teaching.

" _...’There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the_ **_little_ ** _dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense’..._ " Severus did a rather realistic mimic of Hermione's voice, stopping her cold.

Hermione’s jaw dropped.

_He just quoted Lizzy Bennet from_ _Pride and Prejudice_ _, and I had to agree with Narcissa's opinion of me._

"You've been as mature as any rational, clear-headed adult since you started the D.A. _Salazar knows_ you were more mature than Sirius ever was." Severus said dryly, looking her over dryly. "Although I may have been mistaken, taking your actions _of late_ into account."

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but knew it would only cement his opinion. _His wrong, erroneous opinion,_ Hermione thought as she yawned again, exhaustion claiming control of her eyelids.

"You should rest; there is much to do in the morning." Severus stood and started to leave the common room, and she expected to see the robes billow behind him as they always did. Instead, his gait was more of a limping shuffle as he favored his left leg over his right.

_He's trying to hide his injuries... I guess I could understand why. He's going to be going up against all of his former colleagues._

Hermione remembered that Bellatrix was out there somewhere with The Dark Lord's body, and not entirely sure if that was as terrible as Narcissa thought it was.

_When did I start calling him that?_ She thought to herself, _he was Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, just another megalomaniac who came to a bitter end. A lot has changed in my life in so few days, and I'm expected to just go 'home' to the place where I was tortured like it's no big deal._

She wasn’t certain that she could go back... but she also knew Narcissa was there, who witnessed and experienced so much more pain and torture there. She shuddered at that; at least Hogwarts felt like home to her, even war-torn and after being away for a year.

Hermione yawned again, and she knew exhaustion was taking over.

She knew she should make her way home, but the sofa in the common room was soft and she was already here. It was somewhere safe, and warm, and familiar... Hermione’s eyes drooped some more as she finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa felt the sheer wrongness as she finally approached her home; the Dark Magic was too heavily infused and much would have to be done to repair it. She knew that this would take more than just a redecoration; entire rooms will have to be purged and rebuilt.

"Herpy?" She called out, getting no response.

Narcissa went to the kitchen and found a pile of debris that was quivering. "Herpy, it's okay to come out now. The Dark Lord is gone, and so is the snake."

"Herpy was told that before, many years ago... He returned, and will return again..." Narcissa went and cleared away some of the refuse, realizing the house elf had hidden herself in trash to cover her scent.

_I had no idea how scared the house-elves were..._

"No, he's gone for good. Hermione, Draco, and I killed him." Narcissa let the words stew in her head. She had done it; he threatened her son and there was no hesitation. Her wife was right beside her in that moment, and they did what had to be done.

"Herpy is sorry that Herpy hasn't cleaned, Mistress." Narcissa smiled sadly in understanding.

"It's okay, we've got a lot to do though." The smell hit her, and Narcissa realized that the bodies were still here. Corpses of both goblins and wizards were strewn together, their bodies rotting and gasses expelling. She put a bubble-head charm over herself and directed Herpy to bring in some lavender flowers to pin on themselves to keep the smell at bay.

_How should I dispose of them all? The families of the deceased would want to know; I can't just vanish them all._

She had to get them out of the house, she knew. "Herpy, go clear the pavillion. I'll start levitating the bodies into two different lines out there, one for the wizards and one for the goblins." There were so many that she thought it might take a few hours just to sort through their personal effects in order to identify the bodies.

Some were pale, some dark, some looked waxy... But all of them had that unnatural stillness, that softness in flesh that just unnerved her. Her flesh crawled as she moved the modies, and eventually turned it into a routine.

_This should NEVER become a routine,_ she thought as she started to mentally check-out and just go through repetitive motions; lift body, take it through the home, drop it in line. Check pockets and place the contents on their chest. Even the House Elf joined in, pausing frequently to wash her hands.

The bodies at the top of the heap were the most putrefied, but at the bottom of a pile was a bloated corpse whose belly was overly distended. nevermind the torn limbs that are scattered about in the pile Narcissa cringed, levitating and moving the body carefully through the ballroom and into the main hallway. Herpy was coming from the opposite direction, and Narcissa nearly stumbled as she went by.

"Will Master be coming home?"

"Lucius died, there's just me, Draco, and Hermione."

Herpy nodded. "Yes, Master Granger."

"Hermione is a woman, just like me. She is your other Mistress."

Herpy shook her head, horrified. "Herpy serves Master and Mistress, it is the way of things."

Narcissa wondered about that as a wall sconce brushed the corpse she had at wand-point, popping with an eerie flesh-rending sound. It was like wet denim being torn, causing her to  drop the body in disgust as thick ichor and putrefied fluids coated the walls and splattered on her robes.

Narcissa and Herpy shuffled away from the body in fear, only to see the head snap free of the torso and roll towards her.

_Salazar's snake, I'm never going to get that image nor the smell out of my mind._

With a great deal of trepidation, Narcissa grabbed the head and put it on the torso as she levitated the body the rest of the way outside.

Coming back in, she forgot to watch her step and her foot slipped in a patch of something _indescribably_ _horrid_. She would have fallen face-first into a pool of what was once blood…  

_Is this what it means to be Pureblood? Is this all that's left of Narcissa Black, matriarch of the Malfoy line?_

As she sat there in the middle of her home and covered in the remains of death, Narcissa set her jaw as she resolved to get off of her now bruised arse and to get her home back in some semblance of order. She rose, and the subconscious act of sweeping some hair out of her face left a smear of blood and other viscous fluids on her cheek.

It was disgusting, and it was, somehow, still warm as it trailed down to her jaw.

That was her breaking point; she could no longer stay stoic and resilient in the face of all of the horrors she had to 'be strong' for spanning almost two decades. Her cold, neutral expressionless mask she wore through the years of abuse at Lucius' hand was no longer there.

Nothing mattered anymore, and decorum be damned.

Tears started to form and she was mourning. And livid. And scared. And unsure of what the future would be. But she had a new lease on life, and wouldn't let her upbringing restrain her anymore. She had undergone so much, _too much,_ to try and please her family and please the Malfoys because that’s what _was expected_ of her. Even her hair color had been magically altered within her body and bloodline so the Perfect Malfoy Golden Blonde would be in their children. ‘Malfoys Breed True’ was only because of manipulation.

Narcissa strode to the bathroom and reached for a tissue to dab away the tears, refusing to look at her reflection. She knew she looked horrible as she caught sight of herself in the periphery and it pulled her full attention to the mirror; she was covered in the death and decay of others, destroyed robes, and in a broken marriage. This was where she wound up because she did what she was told all her life.

_This was supposed to be perfect, right?  Perfect little dream, perfect home, perfect family, perfect little meek wife… ALL LIES!_

Narcissa forced her eyes to look at her own hair, her signature Black family trait that was 'wrong' for a Malfoy wife.

_I couldn't be 'me'... I loved my raven-black hair…_  she thought as too many emotions went through her all at once. The purity of blood was absolute shite, and the gilded halls here were paid and painted through the blood, pain, and despair of others who didn’t survive the wrath of the Malfoys.

It was then, looking into the mirror and knowing that she could finally be herself in this new marriage… that she knew who she was, and how a muggleborn like Hermione would have always seen her as.

_It doesn't matter that I killed The Dark Lord to Hermione... she knows I just stood there and watched her get tortured by my sister Bella. All she sees is a coward who fell in line._

Narcissa looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes red and puffy, her face sunken and gaunt from sleepless nights… she knew she been avoiding her true reflection for the past few years.

_Why would Hermione see me as anything other than what I am now?_

Narcissa hated who she was, and yet now she had a chance to change her life and her station. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, and that she might lose everything in the end, but maybe she could stand to see herself in the mirror finally.

She knew that she needed to undo the Darkness that had invaded the home, but there was something else she had to do first. Grim determination was her solace from the rising waters of emotions that threatened to flood her again.

"Herpy, collect all of the severed limbs and stack them outside together. Wizard, Goblin... doesn't matter." Narcissa's voice had an edge to it, but she didn't care. Looking into the mirror, she smeared the blood and grime around on her face for maximum effect. He better enjoy the bitter harvest.

Once the ballroom was cleared, Narcissa vanished the bloodstains and went to the library. She had a malevolent glint in her eye as she faced off the portraits of her family and in-laws. She had been trying to avoid this room, but now she had a different plan. The rage within her was burning clean, wiping away years of self-hatred and prejudice that she had taken to heart.

" **_Abraxas!_ ** Time to show you what your Pureblood morals have wrought!" Narcissa spat, ripping the portraits off of the walls.

"Salazar's Snake, woman! Control yourself! **Where is my son Lucius?** I told him to have a firm hand with you..." The portrait saw Narcissa's state and recoiled. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! A Pureblood of your stature shouldn't be covered in such muck!"

Narcissa took on the air of her unhinged sister, throwing the portrait of her mother Druella to the ground with a satisfying crash. "Remember when _Andi_ was considered the worst of us three sisters, and I was **forced** to marry Lucius else I'd bring shame to my family? And **_BELLA_ **was the shining example?!"

Cygnus Black’s portrait huffed at that, obviously looking for a way to dissuade her.

"She was a _troubled girl;_ there was nothing we could do about that…" he said, brushing aside his own complicity in the first Wizarding War, “What did you do with Abraxas’ portrait? _Where is your husband?!_ ”

" _Troubled girl?_ No, father, she was the _only Witch_ to take The Dark Lord's mark, and do you want to know what's happened to him? Huh? **Dead.** "

"Speak sense, woman!"

"The Dark Lord. **_He is dead._ ** And Andi's daughter died a hero _fighting against that Genocidal Villain_."

"Tom Riddle was a **good man** , with pure heritage! He just… got misguided by…" Cygnus' portrait huffed.

"The girl who married that beast?! Oh, the shame she brings onto our family!" Druella wailed, trying to ignore the glaring truth.

"TOM WAS A **HALF-BLOOD** YOU TWITS! And, misguided by **_whom?_ ** Where can the blame be scapegoated now? The Mudbloods, maybe? Because it wasn't the Half-Blood _'Boy Who Lived'_ that stopped this madness. It was ME and a **muggle-born** ... the same _mudblood_ who killed Lucius. **On this very property.**

“Oh yeah, remember that _Bonding_ you MADE us get? Well, I'm no longer a Malfoy…" Narcissa's grin was edging toward madness, and she let her eyes shine with emotion. It felt so good to express her feelings, and to _truly vent_ after decades of repression!

"Obviously you'll need to dispose of him before you make any _half-blooded mongrels…_ " her father’s portrait sniped indignantly.

"Oh, but that's the best part. It _was a witch,_ and the Compulsion you foisted on me made for amazing sex…" Narcissa replied, enjoying the fire-brand passion in her heart. She got to be herself finally, the control forced on her for decades was over!

"ABOMINATION!"

"How could you do this to me?"

_The portraits of my parents were just echos of their hate and their grandiose selves, worried about their own reputations and image rather than the well-being of their own  children…_ Narcissa thought as she carried them out through the ruined house, room by room, showing them the devastation as she took them out to the pavillion.

"The Dark Lord had his giant snake here, EATING PEOPLE. Of course, _they were only blood-traitors,_ right?" Narcissa stacked the portraits into a pile, and held a wizard's broken limb over them.

"Over a thousand, more than likely two thousand muggle-borns were given the Dementor's Kiss. And the dead you see here? The loyal pureblood survivors of the Gringotts attack, that Tom Riddle _decided_ to ‘interrogate’."

Narcissa dropped the limb on them.

"Dead."

Another arm.

"Dead."

A goblin's leg.

"You know, only half-bloods or higher loyal to him were allowed to have jobs under The Dark Lord's reign. So you _might have known_ these people, these piles of broken dead flesh, whom your precious Vol… Voldemort didn't give a damn about. All for his New World. For supposedly preserving the magic for only 'Purebloods'."

The portraits shuddered as they were buried under the stack of dead flesh, both wizard and goblin alike. As each bloody, broken remain that was once alive was tossed upon them, Narcissa repeated the word 'Dead'.

"Dead… Dead… Dead…" Narcissa paused as she found a smaller, more delicate hand. "This doesn't even _begin_ to tackle the torture and suffering they did. This arm? I'm fairly certain it's of a child. An. _Innocent._ Child." She tossed it on top and levitated the rest of the remains to fall into a haphazard pile.

“You always talked about preserving Pure-bloods to _protect the children,_ remember? Harry Potter was a baby that he **tried to kill.** Your precious Pureblood savior did terrible things, used Necromancy, made Horcruxes, and hid them in OUR family vault. I had to use fiendfyre to ensure it all was destroyed." Narcissa said coolly, her resolve firm. "Incendio."

The unidentifiable remains caught on fire, and the air began to smell of singed hair and cooking meat. The fire was cathartic, and Narcissa looked forward to taking a long shower and scourgifying her skin raw after. She heard the screams of the paintings as they sought refuge in the other portraits, only to wind up still burning in the same fire.

This would be her rebirth; she helped kill the man who made so many suffer, and now she was ready to leave the prejudices of Blood Purity behind her.

Harry woke in a bed in the Gryffindor tower, unused to the weight pressing down on his chest. He slept really well, the first time he could stay asleep for more than a few hours in so many months. It made sense, since he had been on the run for so long.

_In the end, it wasn't him or me. I didn't have to kill him. It was Hermione, Narcissa, and Draco._

He looked down to see familiar red hair on his chest. He smiled, knowing that things were going to work out. He was an Auror, Ginny was curled up with him, and he had Andi and Teddy moving into his place. He had a family again.

_Kreacher seemed really happy to have a baby in the house again,_ Harry thought, and he was glad that his girlfriend understood. _Girlfriend_. Finally.

He knew he should get back to sleep stay there until morning, knowing that there wasn't much that anyone could do for now.

_But that's when my brain likes to think up of everything and keep me awake, isn't it?_

Harry thought about the issues that had been on his mind. Ron had a point earlier; there would be a power vacuum and every two-bit Dark Lord wanna-be would be testing the Ministry and the only Auror out there is missing in action, and potentially making a bad situation worse.

Sleeper agents; magical time-bombs set to hunt down Death Eaters with no formal training to reduce civilian casualties. _No wonder Kingsley wasn't willing to make just anyone an Auror… you'd have to trust them to not abuse the power._ Harry remembered what Hermione had said. Draco would more than likely be a target, but so might be Narcissa. _What's the difference between a Death Eater, a scared boy forced to take the mark, and the wife of a Death Eater to an Auror?_

Harry sure as hell wouldn't trust that kind of decision-making to most the members of the D.A.. Luna, sure, but Cormac? Or Lavender? He shook his head at that; he knew that rounding up the last of the Death Eaters on the run would be problematic, but he knew he shouldn't make a bigger problem later on just to solve the current one. If Kingsley wanted to restructure the Hit Wizards and use Severus for now, that’s for the best.

Right now, there’s a manhunt for Bellatrix, Scabior, the Snatchers, and maybe even Auror Proudfoot. Not to mention the entire goblin population could at any moment rise up and start killing.

_No sweat._

Narcissa startled awake in bed, surprised at how she even got here.

_Well my hair is braided and slightly damp, so I apparently did shower last night._

She looked to her headboard, and found an empty bottle of dreamless sleep, along with the magically refilling goblet of wine she drained multiple times after the impromptu bonfire. And the frowning face of Severus Snape.

"Slytherin's Muggle, Cissy. I distinctly told you to use that sparingly. Not _'for best results, use entire bottle'_."

"Why is there a... Snapeypoo Frownyface... in my bedroom? Herpy!" She called out, wincing at the loudness of her voice, "Coffee for me and the wife." She looked at her lifelong friend. "I should have you thrown out before you wake…" Her voice dropped off as she remembered why she dosed herself to sleep.

_Hermione never came home last night; I had to face my home by myself._

"Herpy came for me when she realized how much you had to drink last night, followed by a potion. Not to mention the small barbecue you had."

Herpy brought in two cups of coffee, presented one to Narcissa, and popped out of existence. Severus' lips thinned at that.

"I destroyed my parent's portraits, Sev. And the Malfoys." Narcissa confessed as she sipped the hot godly nectar.

"Well, they were horrid parents; I daresay it was time for you to confront them about it."

"But they were _my_ parents." Narcissa grimaced, knowing exactly what kind of upbringing he had. "Sorry. Well, I'm fine, thank you for the house-call, Healer."

"I had other things to speak about." Severus replied, "and, under the circumstances, I didn't think you should be alone."

She sighed, exasperated. "She said she doesn't love me, Sev. And I can't really blame her." Narcissa took her wand and projected the arithmancy equation of her life. The gold line soared as it did before, and Narcissa added 'Hermione' as the label to the eigenfunction, and edited the variables in the matrix.

"Unwilling marriage. Loathes her wife." Narcissa re-ran the equation, and the lines went haywire. Fates intersected, and the golden line that darkened turned a full flack as it hit the 20 year mark. The other signifiers also darkened and fell sharply as well. The result said she would have a horrible life as this climate continued. "Totally predictable."

"Cissy, give her time. She doesn't loathe you. Besides, you need to account for her being affected by dark magic, and in possession of the Deathstick." Severus consoled, banishing her work, "now get out of bed and begin your day." Narcissa knew he was right; she needed to get out of bed and start her day.Best if dressed, though.

Narcissa gave him a look, and he turned his back to her. "Now I think you're being absurd. You've done more than just seen my nakedness. Dare I say, you've had first-hand experience there."

She got out of bed, wincing at the mental image. "It was your body's likeness, but on a witch. Don't ruin it for me, sassy straight friend."

"Oh, but you make it so easy, Cissy."

Narcissa slipped on some robes and brushed her teeth. "I'm glad you're here, really, but I'm going to be fine. Now what did you need?"

“How is Miss Parkinson?”

“For once in your life, lower your Occlumency shields and let someone in.”

“I don’t want to impose-”

“-you consented to the vinculum, and apparently your bit of soul grafted on just fine to her. What’s really on your mind?”

"I'll be hunting down Trixy; the Death Phoenix is no match for her." Severus turned and faced her as he said that. He seemed mournful of a past that couldn't come back.

"My sister always hated that name."

"She had worse ones for me. Now, will you be okay?"

"I have to be. She's family, but so is Hermione now. Bella went too far, even tried to kill my wife. And apparently the general public might be gunning for me and my son as well."

"That's what I wanted to mention, anti pureblood rhetoric is already on the rise. Harry will be leading the aurors and doing patrols to try and curb Bedlam's final solution."

Narcissa looked to her friend in surprise.

"Oh, so it's ‘Harry’ now? What happened to hating him for life?"

"He's grown up and is willing to protect family. I can't hold onto prejudices for an eternity. Besides, I bled out in front of him and had to bare my soul to him. He knows about Lily now."

"You? Letting go of the past? Who are you and what have you done to Severus Snape?"

"I mean it; you love someone, you **tell them** before it's too late. Don't let them have the wrong opinion of you."

"Sev…" Narcissa said kindly, then went contemplative. "Wait. You're not talking about Lily here, are you?"

Severus turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom. "No. I have a gift for you, the activity room should suffice. Come along, I have a later engagement."

_He's going to just keep carrying that angst, isn't he?_

Narcissa followed him, realizing his gait was slightly off still. "Are you in any shape to go gallivanting after fugitives?"

"They are coming after us regardless; best if we be ready and deny them their quarry."

Severus opened the doors to the activity room _(both doors at once, drama queen)_ and set his wand to transforming it from the fencing and jogging room to spelling practice. Human-shaped targets coalesced into existence, some with hostile poses while others appearing to flee for cover.

"I saw what you and Mrs. Granger did to defend the dungeons from the droves of drunken dunderheads. It gave me an idea… one that doesn't involve _destroying my cauldrons._ " His flat glare at Narcissa was met in kind.

_Hey, it worked._

"Of course it worked, just don't make a habit of it."

"And your idea was?" Narcissa asked out loud.

"I wanted to develop a non-lethal means of disabling an attacker that would leave no magical trace behind. Mrs. Granger might not be attacked, but you may well be. The last thing you need are Ministry inquiries to be opened while avoiding being charged for war crimes by the Wizengamot, and then they have a record of the spells logged in your wand."

Severus' targets began to move back and forth in slow, random directions. He handed Narcissa a blue muggle pistol.

"This fires little capsules that break on contact, each containing a sleeping drought that takes immediate effect." He hit a button on the handle, ejecting a magazine. "The ammunition goes in here, the propellant is inside these metal vials," he worked the slide back, "which can be invoked with this mechanism. Single-use."

"This is muggle technology."

"Very good, Cissy. These rounds are just paint, for training purposes. I'll blend into the crowd here and try to cast spells at you, and you try to stop me."

* * *

 

HERMIONE

Hermione saw herself in Malfoy Manor, and **He** was coming. He would kill everyone, if she didn't have any answers ready for why the vault was breached. _Try to not think about it, you have to get the truth now!_ She knew she had her bound and helpless, tied by her spellwork with magically unbreakable rope. It was a heady feeling as she straddled over the prone form.

"YOU WERE IN MY VAULT!" She shouted, pressing the tip of the blade to her collarbone.

_No, don't spill the Pure Blood, it is valuable..._

The sobbing in the voice beneath her was heady and delicious to her ears. The captive shook her head, black tears spilling out the corners of her eyes. Words failed to come out of the sobbing mouth out of fear that she would upset her captor even more.

"Don't lie to me. I can tell when you're lying!" she whispered fanatically, "I can **taste** the lies upon your lips, you **filthy blood-traitor!** " She slashed with the wand as the straps were sliced apart, falling apart from her robes.

The girl’s voice cracked and she shrieked in fear, the shrill sound hurting Hermione’s ears as it echoed inside the walls of her own skull. A fist automatically connected with her face, once, twice, and again and again until she fell silent.

_Careful, you might kill her this way._

Hermione’s lips were upon hers as the whimpering beneath her broke down into a full shudder. "Puh… ple… please… no…" She begged as Hermione ripped her robes away from her body with a flick of her wand.

"Answer. My. FUCKING. Question." Hermione asked, her body pulsing with nervous energy and excitement as her libido swelled. Her captor was naked and shivering on the cold stone floor. Her fear had made Hermione… _aroused_. She rolled her hips and straddled the prone figure, exposed thighs rubbing over sharp hip bones. Hermione was wearing the same red dress from Fleur's wedding, but she didn't recall putting it on.

"I don't know… it's a fake! It's all fake!" She cried, her eyes shut tightly against me.

_She knows she can't Occlude against me, doesn't she?_

A voice from behind me spoke up. "I… don't think she knows anything. You don't have to keep doing this." The sounded genuinely afraid.

_I don't have time for this!_

"Someone shut her up!" She said, twisting the arm and gesturing the dagger towards the captive. She was in a dirty, rumpled Hogwarts uniform, as if she had lived in it while on the run.

_How am I in two places at once?_

"It's… not real! None of **-this-** is!" Sobbing broke her words apart, and a rational part of Hermione's mind knew there was a real danger of her hyperventilating. The rest of her, however, was incensed at the words. Hermione held the dagger in her left hand and pressed the cold metal against her neck as her right hand sought the slick folds of her quim.

" **This isn't real?** I'll prove to you it's real enough!"

A clattering sound had adrenaline pulse through Hermione, jerking her awake as sunlight stabbed deep into her eyes. Clenching her eyes shut, Granger’s hands shot up to help shield them as she tried to remember where was, and if she had her wand nearby.

_Where was I? Ohgodohgod, was that me? Did I enjoy that?_

She cracked one eye open and a blurry image of the Gryffindor common room's fireplace was before her.

_Oh Merlin, it was all a dream! A really, REALLY bad dream._

"Mistress asked Herpy to bring Master coffee." Herpy said, holding the cup towards her. She was shivering, but didn’t feel cold.

_Something is wrong... very,_ **_very wrong_ ** _in my head... I-I shouldn't enjoy that._

Hermione didn't torture anyone; it was just a dream, she thought blearily, cracking both eyes open.

_Coffee. Coffee is good._

She leaned over for the coffee, and the floor met her face suddenly and painfully.

_Just like punching that girl… myself… in the face as she was beneath me, scared and helpless, and I wanted to put my…_

She shook the thought away violently, trying to forget it entirely. It made her feel too much like Bella, who enjoyed torture on a sexual level.

_Who was she anyways?_

Hermione realized that the floor was that of the worn Gryffindor common room, and she finally realized she was at Hogwarts.

_I am safe. I'm not back there; I’m not with Narcissa._

As she forced herself up, Hermione noticed her breathing was short and ragged, as if she had just sprinted half a mile. The sensation of kissing the girl in her dream was still seared onto her lips, and Hermione remembered everything.

_I actually did tie her up, and did put my whole fist into her… and I loved it. No, I can't handle this right now…_

The comfort of the wand in her robe's sleeve reminded her that it could go away, and as instantly as her hand touched the handle she thought, mercifully, _OBLIVIATE_. A wave of relief went through her as she took a cleansing breath and composed herself on the couch.

She sighed as she patted the familiar wand resting in the hidden pocket, just by her heart.

"Morning, 'Mione. That's gotta hurt." Ron's cheerful words had the opposite effect on her. She sat back on the couch and took the coffee from Herpy gratefully.

"You brought me coffee? Why thank you, Herpy."

"Will you be coming home, Master? Mistress did not sleep well."

Neither did Hermione, if she were honest with herself. She tried to remember if maybe she had a bad dream or something, but she couldn't recall any dreams for awhile now. She shrugged it off, guessing that she had probably been too tired to dream.

"Why is she calling you Master?" Ronald asked.

"It's how she interprets it, I think; I did take Lucius' place." Hermione guessed.

"Master Granger is much nicer. Though Mistress seems confused. Mistress wants Herpy to call Master Granger a 'Mistress'. Two Mistress Grangers would be confusing." Herpy replied.

Ronald laughed as Hermione understood the House Elf's logic. She nodded her thanks and returned the empty coffee cup to the elf, who bowed and started to shuffle away. "Should Herpy expect Master for dinner?" Hermione paused, shaking her head no. Her ears drooped as she heard it, but popped away all the same.

"You avoiding Narcissa now? Not sure that's a good idea." Ron replied.

Hermione rubbed her temples and counted slowly, frustrated at the contradictory advice she was getting from the Weasleys.

"Just last night I was being told to _give her space_ while she's still angry… how do you blokes deal with dating women?"

Ron shrugged helplessly.

“Thanks.”

Hermione thought back to when they were on the run; make a list, then make a plan, then do it.  
_Hogwarts needs to be rebuilt, Bellatrix needs to be captured, parents need to be rescued. Then I go back for year seven._

"Sorry, Harry and I had the hardest time finding dates for the Yule Ball..." his eyes went distant, "Merlin, we're about to have one again…"

“And I'd be expected to attend with Narcissa. _Lovely._ ”

Professor McGonagall swept into the common room, posting a large notice on the bulletin board, nodded a quick hello, and began to stride away.

"What's she in a hurry for?" Ronald asked as Hermione actually took the time to read the note.

“Apparently, everyone who stays in the castle is expected to help rebuild it and the Gryffindors had been tasked with the stonework.”

Ron scoffed at that.

“I don’t know how to do stonework. Doesn’t the castle repair itself?”

Minerva answered as she walked away, making her way to the portrait hole.

"Well, it would, but we need to reset the Founder's Wards, as it took a lot of damage when the shields were cracked. Miss Lovegood was able to-”

The Gryffindor Head of house snapped around, as if remembering one last thing on her busy schedule.

“-Harry Potter! You and Longbottom need to report to Kingsley."

Hermione turned to look towards the staircase to the boy's rooms and saw Ginny storming out. _Well, that’s a new development._ As she turned back, she saw Minerva was gone.

"I've already made up my mind, Harry! Besides, **you're** not coming back for your seventh year!" Ginny huffed.

"But I have a job and responsibilities now, _and_ a godson to help raise. You ought to be thinking of your future and achieving your OWL's..." Harry retorted.

"You didn't even consult with me before you decided to _shack up and play house_ with another woman!"

"Her old home was destroyed in the war and she lost her husband, Ginny! Try to think of others!"

"Hey! OI!" Ron bellowed.

The ginger seemed able to pause time.

" **Why** was she coming down from _that staircase_?"

_Oh bugger,_ Hermione realized, _he's going to play the part of an overprotective brother._

"Ronald, stay out of it." Ginny warned.

"Ron, she… **we** fell asleep together. No-nothing happened." Harry stammered, guilt shading his face red.

Blonde hair went past me, and for a second Hermione thought it was her wife.

_Wait, that's Draco... my step-son... how did he just walk in here?_

"...can't believe Slytherins got tasked with corpse identification and processing for burial... _Stonework?_ You lot got the easy-peasy transfiguration jobs while I have to play mortician. Wait till my f..." Draco stopped as he realized what he was about to say, just as his eyes met Hermione’s. He was still hurt and clearly traumatized by it all, and Hermione could sense exactly how alone he has felt for the past year.

"Ronald, the last Weasley to graduate from Hogwarts was **Percy!** Not you, nor Fred..." Ginny clasped a hand over her mouth as if to stop the words, eyes watering with tears. She didn't want to cry, so she decided to be angry instead. " **Gwenog Jones** says I have what it takes for the Harpies, and if you can _run away_ to go have some laughs, I can go for a bit of Quidditch after all of this!"

"But you can try out next year _after you graduate,_ Gin." Harry said as soothingly as possible.

"NO. This is _my dream career._ **MINE.** Don't tell me that I should just give up on that and be a pregnant teenage mum for you, Harry. I'd never stand in the way of you and your dreams." Ginny replied, her eyes pleading for understanding.

"I… alright. I need to go see the Acting Minister. See you at dinner?" Harry offered the olive branch, and was met with a fierce hug.

Ron was steadfastly unconvinced. "Ginny, I don't want our family to be known as a bunch of _useless dropouts…_ " Her green eyes fumed muted rage towards him.

Neville was biting his lip, not wanting to get involved, but knew he and Harry were needed elsewhere. "We gotta go, Harry." Harry relented as Ginny and Ron looked as if they were about to explode at each other.

"Hey, mum," Draco stage-whispered behind the back of his hand, "I guess we ought to help break this up, right? Keep those two from making a scene?"

Hermione looked at him, unamused. "You know subtle doesn't work on Weasleys; I'll distract Ron, you get Ginny." She replied, standing and moving behind Ron.

"Ronald, we have work to do. Lots of levitating stones into place in some really high-up towers, and we need your steady hands." As her hand gently clasped his arm, Ron predictably calmed down. A faint smile played on his lips as an old feeling of familiarity coursed through her.

"Miss Weasley, would you care to accompany me today?" She looked at Draco, confusedly. He made a bit of a show of shielding his mouth with the back of his left hand, as if conveying a secret. "I'll let you _poke the bodies with a stick..._ "

Somehow Draco made that sound playful and suggestive all at once… It took Hermione a moment to realize he was was actually flirting with her when she laughed. It broke the tension in the room as she nodded her agreement. Harry, however, looked at the Slytherin skeptically, as if wanting to say something. Except that he knew Ginny could take care of herself.

Ginny apparently muttered something under her breath as she moved to Draco. "Can't believe he had the nerve to say that…"

"He's family, trying to do what they think is best. Just remind him Krum was playing pro before he left school, and had some pretty lucrative endorsements." Draco soothed as the pair left the common room.

Neville and Harry followed after them, leaving Hermione alone with Ron.

“Is there something going on between Draco and Ginny?” Hermione asked, idly wondering if they married, that would make Ginny her step-daughter-in-law.

Ron laughed that away.

"Nah. Come along, 'Mione, we got work to do; we can't let the house elves do it all by themselves."

Hermione couldn't help the blush that was there as she agreed and they took to repairing the castle.

 


	11. Homecoming

**NARCISSA**

Narcissa felt like a prisoner in her own home. She wasn't under house arrest, but she was certain that she’d be attacked in the Wizarding World, either knowingly seeking revenge or unwittingly under the Imperius Curse. Either way, waking to find Hermione not come home after their disagreement, Narcissa felt like she was being punished for her countless sins.

_If the Wizarding public doesn’t form a mob and kill me outright._

The weight of the muggle paintball gun was only slightly reassuring to her, and she decided to look into something larger and faster, just in case. She didn't want to die, but if her  arithmancy equations dropped to zero, she would go out fighting.

_So why not fight for Hermione?_ Narcissa pondered that as she put on a glamour to look taller, with cropped-short black hair and deep brown eyes. She even enlarged her nose slightly, changing her clothes to look more like a punk in black leather, leggings, and boots to be as muggle and as different from Narcissa Malfoy as possible.

_I’m oddly a femme Severus,_ she mused as she trekked through Muggle London.

She needed counsel, a trip to a pub, or maybe just _not another damn night alone_ in a house reeking of death and torture. Misery was the only crop that grew in that rocky, blood-soaked earth.

She knew the girl _… woman…_ would be at Hogwarts. All she needed to do was Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk over. Narcissa knew it was that easy, yet something stopped her. She instead kept wandering through London as though it were perfectly natural for her, despite her hand hovering near the muggle weapon. It was non-lethal, and held zero magical resonance, so the Ministry wouldn't be able to trace it back to her.

_It was one ingenious bit of skulduggery; I hope I'll never have to actually use it._

Her mind thought about the many faceless people out there who would be killing against their will. Too many things were being authorized by the Ministry _'for the public's protection'_. She and Hermione would have to be sure that such measures were never taken again. Nobody likes to be forced to do things against their will, and Narcissa knew this all to well.

_And yet you were dosing her with a potion, Cissy. Trying to make her first time happen with even more coercion than just The Dark Lord's._

She didn't like her own hypocrisy, but the damage was done.

Her vision wavered as tears came. Sure, they had still made love to each other, but had she been truly forgiven by the fiercely independent Gryffindor? It was her first time, and Narcissa knew she wasn't the girl's first choice.

Narcissa stopped and leaned against the wall.

_Lesbians are not Dark Witches that must resort to molesting the under aged in order to spread their influence!_

Even telling herself that, she couldn't forget the horrific things her parents yelled at her.

Back in Hogwarts when she she kissed Odette for the first time near the Forbidden Forest, Narcissa's heart thudded in excitement. It was love, not turning towards the Dark. The kiss was innocent, _and good,_ not any of the horrible things she had been told it was.

She always wanted to be a good person, after all. But life had a way of not letting you live to your ideals, much less those of your parents. Odette had left her after they were caught by the Gryffindor Prefects, and had subsequently parroted every cruel thing that was hurled at them both.

She raked her hand through her hair and tucked a lock behind her ear, despite the glamor that made it appear short. It was irreversibly Malfoy Blond; a trait that would be passed down to any offspring she had with Hermione. It was a foreign thing that had invaded her body and re-wrote her own genetic code, and it disgusted her.

Only through sheer force of will had she been able to keep some of her Black ancestral hair, and in that moment, Narcissa had hated herself and what she had become. She was everything her parents had warned her about; her reflection reminded her everyday that the Malfoys had **_owned_ **her body.

_Not entirely, I kept some of my Black heritage, she thought venomously._

She knew that she needed to sort this out with Hermione. And her only friend with a working brain who might hear her out was Harry.

She pulled herself away from the wall and looked around. Surprisingly, she was on Grimmauld Place. She walked over to where it should have been, remembered that her ancestor's home was number twelve, and strode forward to find the door.

It was strange; she had visited the home many times before, and could tell by the wards of the house that she was at the front door, but couldn't see anything. It was still under the fidelius charm, and the only reason she got this far was because she was a Black. She had been here before. She knew that her nose was touching the wooden door that she couldn't see.

She knocked on the door, and the wards strained to open for her. The door fought to open against the house and the door frame, and she was worried for an instant that the clashing wards would tear each other apart.

_I've never known wards to fight against each other like this… they must have been unable to take down the original enchantments…_

"Harry! Sorry about your door, but you're going to have to open it in order for the wards to reset." Narcissa called, hoping that she could be heard from the other side.

"Narcissa?" came muffled from the other end of the doorway, and Narcissa couldn't tell whose voice it was.

“Uh, yes?”

The door thudded and a bolt slid, unlocking it… manually. _Manual lock?_ She could only assume the muggle mechanism was an extra level of fail-safe.

As the door creaked open, Narcissa was shocked at the person standing there. She had come looking for Harry, to ask about how to get through to her wife, but instead found herself face-to-face with her sister.

"Wow, come on in, sis," Andromeda Tonks said, opening the door all the way, "you look like hell."

Narcissa remembered she had a glamour on and cancelled it.

_Might as well get to the point._

"Wanted to talk to Harry," she shuddered, "maybe get some insight about-"

"-about your wife, Hermione?" the sister finished automatically. Narcissa nodded quickly, shivering for no good reason. "Are you okay? Seriously, something seems off with you."

"Yeah. My skin is itching, but on the inside."

Andi checked her sibling for a fever like you would a teen in denial of being sick before a concert. "Merlin’s… Cissy, you're in a cold sweat. How long has this been going on?"

Narcissa winced at the implication. "Three days. Since just after I left Hermione at Hogwarts."

Andi sighed at that, understanding the stubbornness in play. "You look like you're in some sort of potion withdrawal. Go see her."

Narcissa shook her head, but her entire body seemed to shudder with it.

"I can't. It's complicated. I… I think she hates me."

"Hates? Start from the beginning and explain all that's happened between you two. Teddy's around here somewhere playing with Kreacher, so I can make us some tea."

Narcissa recounted the whole story to her sister, who watched her with rapt attention.

"-and that's how I got here. I've treated her like hell and I know that she would rather be straight, single, and in charge of her life."

Andi's lips quirked at that.

"Cissy. _Why_ haven't you haven't told her that you love her?"

Narcissa was dumbstruck at that.

_I don't love her!_

"Love?” She scoffed at the suggestion, “We're… In a _complicated situation,_ is all. One that she wishes to leave."

"Merlin's pants, you don't even realize you love her yet!"

_Okay, wait a minute... do I?_

* * *

**HERMIONE**

The next few days went as well as expected; the Gryffindors were lifting, reshaping, and rebuilding the stone walls using only the spells directed by Professor McGonagall. The Ravenclaws were restoring the charmed items and defensive spells that we had never even known were in place before, and they got to test the mobility of every stone carving and suit of armor that came to life to defend the school.

The Hufflepuffs were on cleaning duty for the school, the grounds, and ensuring that nothing Dark was left to take root near the school. Hermione hadn't even known that Herbology was a natural remedy for extracting Dark energy.

_Perhaps I should start a garden in my Manor…_

The Slytherins were given the gravest task of all; to look at the dead, and to be immersed with the cost of lives for sheer prejudice and hatred. It felt vindictive, but this was probably the best way to ensure the lesson that Pureblood Supremacy means nothing.

_We are all equal, particularly in death._

"When do we get lunch?" Ron asked, complaining yet again this morning. Hermione yawned, trying to shake away the tiredness. It didn't do much good, and she knew she would need a full night's sleep soon, or else she’s get grumpy and incoherent like she did when using the Time-Turner.

"We're not under any geis here, Ronald. You're a grown adult and can leave at any time." Hermione snapped, followed by a stiff yawn.

"I don't wanna quit, just want lunch." Ron huffed.

"Then go get lunch." George said, tilting his head towards the empty air, where Fred would undoubtedly be. "Blimey, I miss him." It would have been such a Fred and George thing to say together.

It got quiet and awkward as none of them knew how to handle it. Hermione wondered if there were any counseling services in the wizarding world.

Instead, Hermione worked on the castle, as it was all that any of them could do. She knew she was using it as an excuse to avoid Narcissa, but didn’t know what to say when she returned.

_‘Sorry for not returning yet, but, well, I was tired. Then I got busy; and then I had no good explanation for being gone for a full 24 hours, which turned into 36.’_

Then it became two days. Three. And there was no excuse good enough to use when she did have to finally return home.

_Ugh, I'm just dreading the upcoming confrontation._

Hermione admitted it to herself; she’s been a coward. She could remember the state of Malfoy Manor when she inherited it, and if Hogwarts were any indication, then her homecoming would be so much worse.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Ron said, putting down the rock he was working on. Hermione looked up to see Molly leading a cart with food and beverages, with a half dozen house elves eager to assist.

Molly couldn't seem any happier though as she fed Ron both with food and cheap lines to use in hopes to have him woo the Golden Girl away from a ‘life of sin’.

_She's barely said a word to me though, after I told her off for her 'did Narcissa touch you?' line of questioning two days ago…_

"Mum, I'm famished! What's for lunch?" Ron asked, having a plate shoved into his hands.

"Roast chicken and potatoes. I am having to twist arms in the kitchens, but I think we're going to have tacos this week. Silly elves think tortillas are muggle sorcery." Molly huffed. As food was being handed out, everyone seemed to take a break and have an impromptu picnic.

"So, 'Mione, what do you reckon Ginny's up to?"

_Oh, this line of questioning again._

"The same thing as the rest of the Slytherins." She replied, trying to stuff her mouth to avoid discussing ‘the situation’ with Draco.

"But _she is supposed to_ be over here with us. What does Draco want with her anyways?"

"Ronniekins, I'll demote you to Hufflepuff." George threatened. Ron wanted to retort, but he saw the look that everyone else was giving him.

"She ought to be returning to Hogwarts like 'Mione is. Don't you agree, mum?"

Molly puckered her lips in a grimace. She's been holding her tongue on a lot of things lately, and it wasn't doing any good. "I _tried_ telling that to the twins. I **tried** telling that to you. And everyone got after me like I was on _You-Know-Who's side_ when I tried to keep you lot **_safe and in school._ ** Ginny went to Hogwarts with _three_ Death Eaters there, and she and her schoolmates got tortured by the Carrows. So if you're grown up enough to call yourself an adult, and want to go galavant off and risk your life as Hogwarts Dropouts, I WON’T STOP YOU."

Ron knew enough to look chastised with his tail between his legs. "I just thought that it would be the best for her." He walked over toward Molly.

“How about you _stop trying to control women,_ **_Ronald?!_ ** _”_

Hermione sighed, trying to calm herself down.

“She can still sit her NEWT's at the end of the year. I'll even send her study guides for when she's on the road so she can do her best on her exams.” Her eyes brightened up at that. “In fact, you, George, and Harry can come back and sit your NEWT's too!”

Ron scoffed the idea away, rolling his eyes as if Hermione had said something insultingly stupid.

"I don't need NEWTs to help run a joke shop."

Hermione clenched her jaw, exhaustion and rage battling for supremacy at that moment.

"So you're okay being called a _dummy dropout_ who has to resort to getting a _hand-me-down job_ to boot?!" she snapped, eyes flashing furiously at him.

“Hey, I’m _helping my family_ , ‘Mione! I don’t need some _stupid piece of parchment_ to prove I’m intelligent to my parents!”

“You think I _like_ revising 4 hours every night?! Unlike YOU, **I** have to prove I’m just as able, just as proficient at magic because I’m a BLOODY MUDBLOOD BITCH!”

Hermione had her arm out and sleeve pulled back, exposing the word carved into her by Bellatrix.

Ron paled as everyone looked at her in utter shock.

"Sorry. Haven't slept well."

Molly muttered something to Ron as George nodded in understanding.

"I get it; we’re all exhausted and stressed out.."

"Tea, 'Mione?" Ron offered, which I took gratefully. It wasn't as fragrant as Narcissa’s, and Hermione was certain that Ron couldn't make tea to save his life.

_Merlin’s sake, his mother is molly-coddling him in hopes to get me to leave Narcissa._

As Hermione brought the tea to her lips, she remembered the fake Mad-Eye's _'Constant Vigilance!',_ and only pretended to take a sip.

"Thanks, Ron."

"So, Shacklebolt said he could get your marriage annulled."

_Did Ronald even know the word 'annulled' before his mother fed him this line?_

"I know, but I'm still under the Compulsion, so there's no real reason to go through with that if I'm still magically bound to her."

"Well, you're a brilliant girl; I'm sure you'll figure it out." Ron said brightly. It bothered me to hear him call me a ‘girl’ still, but we've been friends for ages and decided to let it go.

* * *

**FLEUR**

Fleur watched Firenze whittle arrows with a shaky hand, and she yet again wanted to offer to use magic to make the process easier. He was going to cut himself at this rate.

But she knew he was proud and would not accept help from a witch. It was difficult enough to let her clean and bandage his wounds after the first day, yet he relented as they agreed to help mend each other.

_Fucking racists,_ she thought angrily, _those damn Healers deciding that I'm not human enough to bother healing._

Severus limped into the transfigured classroom, bottles clacking from leather straps he held in his hand. "Here you go, Misses..." he made a low noise of apology. "Your potions, Fleur."

Sharp, avian eyes met stoic onyx. He was only trying to be polite, but Fleur was still coping with the loss of her husband. Though the Weasleys were known for being open-minded to muggle-borns, Fleur received nothing but hostility from Molly before the wedding and it got worse after his death.

_Molly is just angry and blaming me for his death; she's mourning. I shouldn't take it so personally._

Except that it was personal with the Weasleys. While they were inclusive towards muggles and muggle-born, they shared the exact same hate that Purebloods did for ‘race-mixing’ with non-wizardkind and for homosexuality.

Overnight, she went from Heroine _(or maybe the notorious sidekick to The Boy Who Destroyed Gringott's)_ to an anathema to the Wizarding World. She was stripped of her legal status as a witch by the Ministry and therefore had no rights, either.

She couldn’t help but see the irony there, since the anti-muggle laws that defined who was a recognized Wizard or Witch were made by Voldemort, so the subsequent repeal of anti-muggleborn legislation left legal discrimination in place against half-breeds like her.

She didn't realize how many 'rights' existed until she didn't have them. The right to not be turned away from the hospital, the right to simply be in public without harassment by the law, and the right to not be refused service in any establishment just because she looks different, nevermind actually be able to find a job.

"This will have to do for the foreseeable future; you might be able to get Draco or Misses Granger to brew for you if it becomes dire." Severus said. His voice was still gravelly, as if shards of broken glass were a part of his windpipe now. It was disturbing but no longer distracting. Fleur couldn't tell if he was getting better or she was just more acclimated to it.

"Wait, where are you going, Severus?" Fleur asked, fearing his reply.

"I have a job to do." An arrow crossed before him and hit the door before him. "I see Firenze disagrees."

"You are in no shape to duel able Death Eaters; this fool's errand would be nothing more than a prolonged suicide mission for you. **Stay.** _Heal._ And train." Firenze replied, "Mars is still as bright as ever."

Fleur stepped towards him, stretching her arms as well as her wings. There was a twinge on her injured side still, but she was pretty certain she could fly on it if it was needed. "I'll go hunt them with you, but after the Ball. That gives you a few days to get your leg in full order."

"I do not wish to be applauded by sycophants." Severus bit, "nor do I deserve an Order of Merlin for killing Albus."

"I'll go on your arm. That should frighten away anyone foolish enough to want to shake your hand." Fleur replied, entreating his less than gregarious nature.

"I… will keep that under consideration." His voice was that of someone trying to end the conversation.

_Not if I can help it._

"Draco and the Grangers will have to be there. It's all over the Prophet. I'm surprised Rita hasn't eviscerated the girl in print yet."

Severus frowned at that. It was common knowledge to those who could read between the lines that they hated each other. Fleur dropped the last point in her favor, as a coup de gras to his reticence.

"You know Bellatrix would want to do something… _big._ "

His frown became a scowl. "I shall meet you there. On time."

"Of course. You have suitable robes?"

Severus rubbed his face with his left hand, holding back a snarl. He realized he had been played, and expertly. His eyes met hers directly, and they were not amused.

" **She** put you up to this, didn’t she?"

_She who? Narcissa or Hermione?_ Fleur hadn't seen Hermione in days and needs to ensure she has quality robes and a salon appointment…

"Of course not! I just…" Fleur’s voice drifted off as his eyes stared through her.

_She warned you he can sense lies, and he's looking right into you!_ She blinked a few times, and looked away.

"Very well. We'll go shopping in Paris' Wizarding District tomorrow. The four of us."

_Wait, the four of us?_

"What do you mean?"

"The Grangers have been avoiding each other for days now. I won't let this game of cats-paws continue. You figure out how to get Hermione to go; I'd suggest you taunt her inability to dress herself and make her defiantly go with you just to prove you wrong. I'll use a different technique on Narcissa."

Fleur looked at the Potions Master and smirked. "I think I would have enjoyed Slytherin House."

"Your education would have been _multidisciplinary_ in ways you could not even begin to fathom."

* * *

**PANSY**

Healer Pye looked over the medical diagnostic charms three times, confused at how quickly his patient stabilized.

“Your magical signature was disjointed and weak, but now it’s like… nothing happened.” He checked the record of which potions were administered and when she had them.

“So I can go?” Pansy replied, sitting up and struggling to get out of the bed.

“Well, I’d rather not release you, because while you’re _physically_ healed from… whatever you happened to be doing when the war ended… I have zero explanation for how your magical core refilled itself so quickly.”

Augustus grabbed her left hand, pulling back the sleeve and cast _Specialis Revelio._ Pansy pulled it back, scoffing with indignation.

“Do you assume _every_ Slytherin took the mark, Healer Pye?”

“No, but the only thing that can explain this is… you’re feeding off of someone else, like a… magical vampire.”

Pansy composed herself into the stoic pureblood mask.

“Perhaps you’re just that good of a healer, but poor enough to not understand how you did it.”

“No, you must have smuggled in and taken some sort of illegal potion or something.”

Pansy sighed, closing her eyes slowly before summoning her wand.

“I, Pansy Parkinson, swear on my wand that I did not smuggle in any potion into this Hospital.”

The wand lit up white, proving the truth. Healer Pye frowned at that.

“Very well, I’ll get the parchment for you to sign.”

As the Healer left, there was a hesitant knock at the door.

“Pans?”

Odette stood there, relief on her face to see her daughter alive.

“Mum!” She opened the window, thanking the glamoured Fawkes and pocketing the Brimstone Potion that was sitting on the ledge outside. “You’re here.”

_I did not lie; I had not smuggled a potion_ **_into_ ** _the hospital._

“Yes, well, I was concerned and when I heard you were here, I thought-” Odette murmured, pulling her daughter into a tight hug.

“-I’m fine,” Pansy fibbed, “war’s over, and You-Know-Who’s dead.”

Odette let go, smiling in relief. “Yeah, it’s all over the Wireless; apparently _Hermione_ and-”

“-your ex-girlfriend?! _When were you going to tell me?_ After Lucius petitioned an arranged marriage between Draco and myself?”

Odette grimaced, shame coloring her cheeks.

“Pans, it was the 70’s; I was young and did a bit of… _exploration._ ”

“Nana Shafiq arranged your marriage to the Parkinsons because of it, didn’t they?”

Odette frowned at that.

“Your grandfathers saved me, and in a way, us, from public shunning.”

“Even though you knew the Parkinsons were Pureblood Supremacists?”

“You don’t understand; Narcissa was _sold off_ to the Malfoys, put under a _Compulsion-based Bonding._ In the Old Ways, _forced obedience_ to Lucius. When that happened, I promised _whatever it took_ to keep my autonomy.”

“Did you love her?”

Odette was surprised at that question.

“...I was sixteen, I had no idea what love was.”

Pansy sighed at that.

“Was Cissy happy with you?”

Odette started to nod, but halted.

“-where did you learn that nickname?”

Pansy shrugged, trying to bluff on the spot.

“It, uh, just seemed right.”

“I’m your mother, I can tell when you’re fibbing.”

“I did what I had to do in order to avoid being conscripted into being a Death Eater, or worse, a Pureblood Broodmare for Crabbe!”

Odette sat down, stunned at that. She knew her daughter was at risk as the only heir to the Parkinson Estate, but not how far they might go.

“The Crabbes always had a vicious streak in them; I was attempting to broker a match with Cordelia Zabini for her son Blaise.”

“Hope you kept a Bezoar nearby if she served tea…” Pansy joked darkly.

Odette tittered slightly, restraining her laughter as Healer Pye came back with the dismissal parchment.

“Miss Parkinson, will you have someone to assist-”

Odette cleared her throat, hand outstretched for the paperwork.

“-Her mother is here.”

Augustus Pye’s eyes darted from Pansy to Odette in confusion.

“Um, very well. Top form is for her to sign, the next is a detailed listing of potions I’d like her to take for the next fortnight, all are available at the in-house Apothecary on the First Floor-”

“-If it’s not Silverthorne’s, I’ll just make it myself. The level of purity and efficacy the Ministry allows is downright criminal.” Pansy retorted, sounding much more like Severus than herself.

Odette picked up on it, eyes narrowed in concern.

“We’ll order from Silverthorne; you don’t have a _Mastery in Potions_ yet.”

The Healer watched the exchange before shrugging it off, handing the self-inking quill and parchment to Pansy for her mark before leaving.

When the two witches were alone in the room again, Odette rounded on her daughter.

“What. Did. You. DO?”

Pansy looked away from her mother, anxiety swelling up in her chest.

_Don’t tell her everything._

“I um, saved someone’s life.”

Odette pressed her lips together in aggravation.

“A certain _potion maker_ who is close with my ex? You _‘did what you had to do’_ in order to not become a Death Eater? I sent you back to Hogwarts to **protect** you from the regime change, NOT to…” she trailed off, still uncertain what her daughter had been up to.

“Mum, I’m fine. I-”

“-no, **No**. Tell me the truth, or tell me nothing.”

Pansy shook her head sadly, refusing to admit her role in the war.

“Let’s go home.”

_And let me rest up before Thanatos is needed again._

* * *

**HERMIONE**

Molly wasn't at dinner that evening, and Hermione really didn't give a damn. Only George seemed to have her side, but even he wouldn't stand up to his mum like she had to.

The Great Hall had finally been cleared of patients; the more serious injuries having been transferred to St. Mungo's while the minor ones were in the Hospital Wing. The tables were no longer segregated by house, yet the Slytherins were still being isolated by the rest.

_Even after the Sorting Hat told us to come together, we still kept the Slytherin House at an arm's distance._

That was, until Harry and Neville showed up and joined Ginny among the seated Slytherins. Was there a rivalry between Harry and Draco for Ginny’s attention? Harry waved Hermione over, yet didn't seem jealous or angry around her stepson.

As Hermione made her way over to sit, she realized exactly how quiet it had become. The Dark Lord was defeated not by the Chosen One, but by a scared young Death Eater, his mother, and Harry Potter's best friend. They all wondered if ‘the Grangers’ were actually good and the war was truly well over… or if the Malfoys had somehow taken control of Hermione and were going to be worse than Riddle had ever been.

"Hey ‘Mione. So, Auror training is a blast!" Harry said, pulling her into a hug and casting the Muffliato, "we need to show a united front, so we can rebuild the Ministry without suspicion."

She looked to Draco, who winked at Hermione as Neville and Ginny made their hellos. "Draco's idea?" She replied quickly, pulling away.

"Came to see Ginny, actually, then go home to Andi and Teddy." The look in his eye told the Golden Girl it was Ginny's idea. Hermione would have to ask her ginger friend about this later.

"So, what have you two been up to?" She asked, glad to see Harry looking this happy.

"Mostly paperwork, registering my wand, and learning proper procedures. They really frown on the whole 'make-it-up-as-you-go-along’ approach." He cracked a grin at that.

"Probably for the best." Hermione replied, chuckling. She looked at how Harry was looking at Ginny; her heart aching at the sheer level of love and devotion that was there.

_I hope someday someone will look at me like Harry looks at her._

Hermione turned back to where the Gryffindor Common room was, and Ron’s eyes were wide as he gazed lovingly at the cornucopia of food.

_Or maybe I’ll settle for how Ron looks at food._

"Ginny, would you care to accompany me to the Ministry Awards Ball this weekend?" It was obvious what she was going to say, from the grin on the youngest Weasley’s face.

As they made plans, Hermione wondered if she would have to go. A look from Harry, along with a letter from Draco's owl, told her that she would. Looking up from his letter, Draco put on his classic Malfoy sneer as he looked the brunette over.

"Fleur will be taking you to Paris tomorrow to hopefully find… _something…_ that will be deemed suitable. Best if you see about fixing," he gestured to all of Hermione, " _all of that._ " His face was trying to show bored disgust, but his eyes weren't selling it. Hermione shot back with a 'I see through your scheme' look.

Harry, however, fell for it. "Hermione can find a dress well enough on her own!" As he looked to his friend, he finally realized something was off. He was alone in his impotent rage.

"Harry, she needs an evening gown and could use a makeover. You and I are going for new formal dress robes, too. And a haircut." Draco replied.

"You planned this." Harry stated, figuring it out. "What's in France for you?"

"Well, seeing as I am on probation and restricted movement by the Ministry, I can't really leave the country without an Auror escort. You see, I actually believe Hermione here when she says there will be another goblin rebellion, and am relocating my family’s financial assets from Malfoy Industries to a bank _outside_ of goblin control. Probably best if you do that as well."

Hermione understood what her stepson meant by this, making her reconsider the sizable fortune that she had inherited. "What's the status with, um, my company?"

"I asked our Solicitor about Wizarding Business Law. It's better to construct it as a bankruptcy and buyout rather than a re-branding attempt, so Mother suggested you buy it out with Granger Enterprises. That way you can break old business contracts easily."

_Granger Enterprises exists? Knowing this family, they probably already set it up._

Ginny was impressed by this. "What all does Malfoy Industries do?"

"Oh a little here and there; we own the patents to some potions, Spellotape, Magical cleaning supplies, own a significant minority in Witch Weekly, but we were making hand over fist with Quidditch supplies, team management, and endorsements." Draco said nonchalantly.

"What about-" Ginny started.

"The Harpies are completely witch-owned and operated. You've earned your shot there on your own; apparently a scout for the team saw you play against Ravenclaw for the Cup." As Draco said that, Ginny beamed.

"So that's how the Slytherin team got new Nimbuses!" Harry exclaimed, making the mental connections. "Viktor used to endorse those brooms I recall, but then kind of disappeared for awhile." Draco nodded guiltily.

"Yeah, I never knew what happened there. Some falling out with my father, I bet. Another reason for the buyout; you won't have to repay nor honor any arrangements made by Lucius."

As they sat and talked about a little bit of everything, Hermione was glad for the reprieve into what passed for normalcy.

_I'm going to have to move my money out of wizarding Britain. We have a family solicitor on retainer. I can do this._

After they finished eating, Harry asked Hermione to join him for a private talk. She agreed as Draco kept the others entertained with a riveting story about his work with Puddlemere United. The muffliato went up as an afterthought at this point.

"Brilliant use of inverting the notice-me-not spell." Harry said, as Hermione noticed how her eyes were being drawn towards Draco.

_That's why nobody was approaching us, bloody brilliant. Stealth and guile are things that I'll need to learn from him._

The pair of them walked out of the Great Hall and ducked into a storeroom on the same floor.

"Anyways, I figured my way around the magical Non-Disclosure Agreement as an Auror. For some reason, Unspeakables came in and had me doing paperwork, specifically barring me from mentioning and informing others about Horcruxes."

"I always thought that the Unspeakables were researching something so secretive that they had to keep silent… or are you telling me that they are some sort of spook squad?”

"That's what they _want_ most people to think. They do some research, but mostly are in charge of keeping the dangerous information out of the public eye; keeping others from speaking up about it. But the point is that the Ministry is in shambles, and they're trying to clean it all up. During the war, they kept a lot of secrets away from Voldemort when he tried running things. So as an act of good faith, I have to help prove that the Ministry I'm helping to reform with Kingsley is a stabilizing force. But that's why the Horcruxes haven't been brought up publicly, and same for the Deathly Hallows.”

"But I already know about horcruxes... oh. Brilliant." _That's why he can talk to me,_ Hermione realized. "So how is the Ministry able to cover it up? I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing."

"Me either, but now you know. The Unspeakables don't seem to answer to the Minister of Magic, which was good during the war, but now it makes me wonder."

"Harry, do you think that they are wiping the memories of people in order to keep certain things secret?"

Harry shook his head, doubtful.

"No, they don't like doing things that way, from what I gather. Memory gaps show up, and people get suspicious. They let us keep our knowledge about Horcruxes when Dumbledore told us... meaning that they might be willing to sway things certain ways, or try to keep some sort of balance. I can't figure out why they didn't stop Tom when he was getting the information from Slughorn, unless back then they never expected the rise of Lord Voldemort."

"So you don't see them as a threat?" Hermione was vaguely scared by this, but couldn't figure out why.

"What I have gathered is this; they opposed Voldemort once he took over the Ministry. The best Tom could manage was to make his name taboo, not Unspeakable. Imagine if the entire Wizarding World forgot that Voldemort existed, even while he runs the Ministry through Imperioused Wizards.”

She gulped at that.

_He could essentially re-write reality if that happened._

“The Unspeakables aren't coming after any of us, and they are suppressing the Deathly Hallows... they might have the wand and stone. Don't worry, I still have the cloak, though."

"Actually, um..." Hermione hedged, wondering how she could possibly tell her friend.

"What is it?" Harry asked, naive innocence etched in his face. The way he was looking at her was the polar opposite of how everyone else was starting to look at Hermione, and she wanted to keep it that way.

_The Boy Who Lived is not a man I can trust to make the hard decisions,_ Hermione though as she took a dismissive tone, shrugging off the idea to tell him about the Elder Wand.

"I feel like I'm, uh, missing time. Probably from all the stress and trying to adjust to no longer having to be on the run anymore. Don’t worry; I'll be fine.”

“You sure?” Harry asked, concern knitting his eyebrows.

Hermione took a deep breath, putting on a placating smile that wasn’t unlike the Malfoy Neutral Face.

“Yeah. You get back to Ginny and spend some quality time before you two part ways for a bit."

Harry nodded, and went back to Ginny. Hermione was done for the day and didn't want to deal with any more staring or fake smiles.

As she made her way up to the Gryffindor tower, she wondered about what she was going to say to her wife at the Ball.

_Send me an owl the next time you feel randy, and I'll come with the whips and chains?_

The thought of a bound Narcissa entered her mind, and she couldn't easily turn away from it. The mental image of her wearing that midnight blue nightgown spurred on the Gryffindor’s desire as her mind began filling in details such as blindfolds, ball gags, and the sound her wife made when moaning in pleasure as she begged Hermione to use the crop.

She bit her lower lip at the thought of her lips dragging ever so lightly over Narcissa’s, her fists clenching and twisting up the sheets as their legs rubbed against each other in need.

Hermione scrambled the rest of the way up to her room, panting as she succumbed to the fantasy, casting privacy charms on her room as she threw herself onto the bed, pulse racing and her sex throbbing in need for release.

Nervous energy pulsed through her as she gulped, unclasping her trousers as the tips of her fingers delved under her pants. She paused, holding her breath as she listened one last time to be absolutely sure that she was alone.

_Damn, how is it that simply thinking of Narcissa can do this to me? This never happened with any other guy..._

When she felt sure she was alone, her fingers deftly slid down and in a bit so she could bring herself to orgasm.

_It has been too long_ , she thought as her longest fingers slipped past her folds and circled her clit. She knew the exact outfit she’d wear to entice Narcissa. It would be leather, black, and shiny; snug to perfectly accentuate her curves. The stoic Slytherin would be undone as she saw how sexy Hermione looked, the blank mask gone as naked lust filled her eyes.

_My wife however,_ she thought with a smirk _, would be wearing nothing at all… maybe a collar or some restraints so she couldn’t stop me if she wanted to._

Hermione continued the fantasy, thinking of how Narcissa would beg and whimper just to touch her, and how she would make her wife earn it. She vaguely wondered when she began to fantasize about Narcissa, but she put it out of her mind as she was nearing her breaking point.

"...cissa..." Hermione bit her lip as she put the tip of her wand against her most sensitive bits and cast the vibration charm. A gasp shuddered out of her as she imagined her wife’s mouth and fingers pleasing her, on command, because she wanted to.

Three fingers pumped in and curled, over and over, at a furious pace.

_She would please me because I told her to._

Hermione thought about how she would reward her in kind while keeping her bound, gagged, and blindfolded. She would be thrashing as she tried pulling her cunt away from her eager lips, begging her Mistress to stop...

The Gryffindor came quickly and cathartically, savoring the moment of release with a cry louder than she had expected to come out.

As she basked in the afterglow, she cast the regular cleaning charms to rid all evidence as well as cancelling the privacy spells.

_Why I was fantasizing of bondage and beating my wife with implements? Am I turning into Lucius?!_

Fearing the answer, and why she felt like she owned her wife, tapped her head with the Elder Wand and cast Obliviate...

* * *

  **HARRY**

Harry was nervously waiting by the house point hourglasses when Ron went by, levitating a large stone boulder behind him.

"Harry, what are you doing here? I thought you and Neville were at Auror training." Ron asked, dropping his load onto the floor.

"We were, but I've got plans today. Gotta get prepared for the Ball." He busied himself by straightening his robes, hoping to not look disheveled.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that." Harry looked at his friend in confusion. "Ginny spending the night with you and all. You gonna start dating her again?"

A smile came to Harry's lips automatically at the thought of that.

"Yeah, I love her. Now that Voldemort is gone, she and I can... resume." Harry was hopeful as he said it, but it made Ron feel uneasy.

"I... yeah, I guess you can. You'll treat her right, or I'll come after you."

Harry chuckled. "I know. But today Draco's taking me to Paris with him."

Ron sputtered at that. "Blimey, Harry, that's what I meant to tell you. They have been joined at the hip lately; I haven't been able to get her alone long enough to ask if he's trying to date her. Hell, they were here at Hogwarts for a whole year while we were on the run!"

Harry quietly chuckled at that. "Pretty certain that he's not dating her. Draco had zero prestige during his seventh year here; he was as much of an outcast as she was. Remember he failed his mission and displeased Voldemort while he was in charge here."

"You pity him?"

"Voldemort wanted me dead, which didn't take too long for him to do. Draco was going to be punished, quite cruelly, for a very long time. Between quick and painless and slow grueling suffering, which would you pick?" Ron paled, nodding his understanding.

"Wow. Sorry Harry, I just thought you should know."

"Well thanks, but if I were worried I'd just ask her. And I'm telling you there is no way those two are involved."

Ron looked at his friend skeptically. "You seem way too certain about this. What aren't you telling me?"

"I trust Ginny is all."

"Oh, well he did take the Dark Mark, so he's probably gay."

"Are you mental? Voldemort was all about blood purity, in fact, he was about to mandate Purebloods to marry and breed like cattle by passing some sort of Pureblood Restoration Act. The Aurors were going to be tasked with enforcement. Imagine if he - or you - were forced to marry Millicent Bulstrode and had to", he shuddered at the thought, "do it every week till she's pregnant and have one child every year!"

Ron blanched at that. "Well, um, there's nothing wrong with getting married and having kids. Normal, you know." Harry looked at his friend like he'd never seen him before.

"But he'd be taking away your right to love who you want!" Ron has to understand that's a horrible thing!

"Harry, my grandparents were an arranged marriage. At first, yeah, they kind of hated each other. Ginger temperament, I suppose. But they found things in common and got along great and had loads of kids and turned out to be really nice people." Harry noticed the correlation that only the good Wizarding families had a lot of children.

Harry thought back to something Ron had said.

"Why did you think that Draco's Dark Mark means he could be gay?"

Ron shrugged at that. "Common knowledge mate. Grindelwald was, Voldemort never married, and there was a lot of speculation around Albus. You can even look at his family; Draco was an only child."

"Bellatrix was married, remember? And I was an only child, too." Harry retorted, hoping his friend could see reason. Draco approached behind Ronald, listening in on the conversation.

"She's also insane. And now that Hermione's _'married'_ to Narcissa, she's starting to look a bit unhinged." Ron's sarcastic use of that word was obvious, and it bothered Harry to hear that.

"That's our friend you're talking about!" Harry scolded.

"And my step-mum! She's loads better for my mother than Lucius ever was." Draco added, surprising the Weasley.

Ron shook his head, resignedly. "She'd be even better married to a bloke and having babies." He seemed unable to not mutter that last part under his breath.

Draco cut in."Ready to go, Auror? Cast your perimeter jinx on me and I can Apparate us there." Malfoy knew that he wouldn't be allowed more than 50 feet away from Harry, but some freedom is better than none.

Harry nodded, and jinxed his 'prisoner'. "Actually, I scored us a portkey."

Draco shook his head at that, smirking. "Bugger that, I can do it much smoother than any portkey. Ready?" Draco snaked his arms around Harry's waist, something akin to a lover's embrace. He smirked at the young Auror and arched an eyebrow to signal he was doing this just to annoy Ron.

Harry gave a soft laugh and nodded as the Slytherin vanished them with a whispered pop.

* * *

**NARCISSA**

Narcissa woke up, again, to the sallow face of Severus Snape.

"Did you drink yourself to sleep? Please don't make a habit of this, Cissy."

"No, I cried. **Bastard**. I went to talk to Harry last night and instead ran into my sister Andi."

"I had heard that he took her in." Narcissa noticed the clipped measure in his words.

"I also met Teddy, my grand-nephew."

"Ah, I see. Perhaps a bit of retail therapy will do you some good." Was he trying to change the subject?

"He was such an adorable and well-behaved baby. In fact, he was morphing his face just like Nymphadora."

"Could we reminisce on such trivial matters at a later time and allow me to take you to Paris today?" Severus definitely was trying to change the subject at hand.

"What bee got into your bonnet?" Severus frowned at the question, but my silent stare forced him to answer.

"I'll tell you over beignets." Severus didn't usually get snappish and speak through clenched teeth, so it must have been bad.

"You're being oddly cryptic."

"I'll order a _side of fatalism_ that you can wash down with a goblet of LEAVE OFF, Narcissa."

_Really bad._

"Fine, we can go to Paris. I probably should get a new dress for the Ball." Narcissa replied, noting his explosive retort.

"Perhaps you should update your look; you could look years younger now that you're no longer married to Lucius." She bristled at that comment.

"Are you calling me old?" Her eyes met his momentarily, and Severus' face was schooled to be perfectly neutral.

"No, I'm just reminding you that your wife is _nearly half your age._ " That was absolutely bitchy of him. Narcissa couldn't remember the last time her friend sounded like the girls who used to bully her back in school.

_It's his coping mechanism, don't fall for the trap._

"Severus Tobias Snape, vindictiveness notwithstanding, I can tell you're trying to distract me from what's bothering you."

"I need new robes as well." _Severus, willing to go out and shop for new robes?_ Cissy knew that whatever it was, it was bad enough that he'd bring it up when he feels ready.

"You have a date for the Ball? Maybe your mystery girl after Lily?" As Narcissa said that, Severus' face fell from the forced neutral to something darker.

"No, and said girl is deceased."

_I knew the man had ghosts in his past, I never thought that they would be literal._

"Deceased? Oh, Severus... I didn't know. How did she -" Severus shrugged it off violently, rubbing his forearms as if cold or a vague itch. 

"It was Nymphadora. We had a... _tryst._ Then I slew Albus and she married **Lupin.** Even after all these years, a _bloody Marauder_ still shreds apart any chance at happiness I can have."

Narcissa's heart broke when she realized he had fallen for her niece, the Auror.

"Severus, I... you had to keep your cover. I put you in that position with the Unbreakable Vow." Narcissa had tried her best to comfort him, because in all the time they had been friends, he was equally there for her when Lucius got too rough in attempting to 'correct' her sexual desires. She felt sorry for him, but they each did what they had to in the war to survive.

"I RESCUED HER FROM A BAND OF SNATCHERS! Had to first convince them I wanted to... _buy her..._ for prurient reasons." Narcissa flinched and cowered, an echo of her past with Lucius. Severus noticed it and slumped, ashamed of himself. I am not a victim of the past, and this is my friend. He needs me. She kept her voice calm and soothing.

"Did she know what you did for her? What all you did for the war? You're a good man, Severus. Don't ever forget that-" 

"-for about a week, yes. But the knowledge was too dangerous, so after I nipped all of the loose ends-"

"You killed the people who sold my niece into slavery. I think you were being kind to them. _I would have done much worse._ "

"I wiped her memory of our time together, letting her think the worst of me."

"I'm sorry. You deserve happiness."

"I deserve solitude. I deserve the well-learned lesson that love simply isn't the panacea to the world's ills."

_Merlin, no wonder he's morbid._

"Okay, we both need some retail therapy. We can stop by Silverthorn's Apothecary and get you a new set of cauldrons." Severus' dark eyes looked away in regret, yet was already calculating.

_Slytherin's Snake, when did this man become so moody?_

"I'm persona non grata with him."

"You may have been, but now you're a _war hero_ and vindicated spy." Severus thought about it and agreed.

"Very well. Let us go."


	12. Confessions

**HERMIONE**

Hermione woke up oddly refreshed from a full night's sleep, something that had eluded her lately. There wasn't any aftertaste of potions in her mouth, so she assumed she passed out from sheer exhaustion.

_What am I doing today? Oh, shopping in Paris with Fleur today. Right._

Yet the bed was warm, comfortable, and here. She burrowed into the comforter, enjoying the false sense of sanctuary it gave her. Sleeping in was something she rarely enjoyed when a student at Hogwarts, and she was determined to milk this for every minute she could.

"Non! I have an appointment with her, you silly boy!" Hermione cringed at Fleur's voice, knowing who the 'silly boy' would be outside her door

" _You are going to have to go through me!_ " Sure enough, the silly boy was Ron. Hermione wasn't certain why he was sounding so hostile, though.

"You are foolish to court the wrath of a Veela, much less one whom _saved your life!_ "

Hermione climbed out of bed, charming her hair into something manageable and threw a robe on as she made her way to the stairwell.

_Ronald was only going to make this worse, wasn't he?_ She thought, hearing his voice get louder. 

"What do you want with her?" She could tell by his tone that he was probably red-faced and puffing his chest out to the Veela in some sort of macho challenge.

"It is up to her to tell you. If she does not trust you, zat iz not my concern!" Hermione realized that Fleur's accent was returning, a very bad sign...

"She IS my concern!" 

Stomping down the stairwell as fast as she could, Hermione found herself in a standoff between a brandished wand and a pair of fiery veela hands threatening a fireball. The rest of Gryffindor house wisely stayed back, either unsure how to diffuse the siutation or were too scared of the Veela. 

"Put your wand down, Ronald, you're just makings things worse." Hermione said, hoping he'd listen to reason.

"What are **you** doing with the _Veela?_ " Ron spat, jealousy in his voice.

"I'm _going shopping_ with her." He scoffed at that. She realized how preposterous it seemed, but it was the truth, and she was tired of having to be the better person. " _We're going to Paris;_ I need something for the Ball."

"I don't believe that; _apparently_ Harry is there with Draco, too!"

"What does that have to do with me?" Hermione retorted defensively.

"You can't trust them!"

Fleur sneered at that.

"Oh, I get it now. Ronald is being left behind and doesn't like it. _Enjoy your hand-me-down robes._ " 

"Look, _Ronald,_ I'll be back in a few hours."

"You expect me to believe that you're going shopping, with Fleur, in Paris?"

"I _expect you_ to act like a supportive **friend**. Failing that, I expect silence. Am I quite clear?."

Ron realized he had seriously messed up.

"What? Hermione, I'm sorry."

"I'm _still_ a girl -woman." She corrected herself, willing herself to be calmer. "The Ball will be the first time I will be seen publicly with Narcissa since the final battle, and the Wizarding Media of the  _entire world_ will be there. And to top it all off, I've been dreading facing her so I had better put my best foot forward."

"Blimey, you've not said a word to her? That's going to make asking for an annulment harder."

The blase way he said that bothered her; she wasn't about to make any hasty decisions, particularly if it's based in homophobia.

"I think that's _my_ decision to make, Ron."

He scoffed at that, almost disgusted at the idea.

"You can't possibly consider staying in this sham marriage with her."

Hermione's jaw clenched tight.

"Why _**not,**_ Ronald?"

Fleur backed off, realizing the impending argument that was stewing just beneath the surface.

"Do I have to say it, 'Mione? She's... _Draco's mum;_  she's old enough to be your mother, too."

Hermione stared him down, and he cowed. "Did you **ever** bring up the age issue between Tonks and Professor Lupin? _No._  Your problem is you don't like the idea of two women in love with each other." 

"It's not that at all, 'Mione. I just don't like the idea of **you** with her."

"Just say it, Ronald. What's your problem with my wife?!" She shouted at him, exasperated at having to beat around the proverbial bush with him.

"Because at the end of the day, she's **still a Malfoy!** "

"She's _not_ a bad person!" His eyes narrowed, and Hermione instantly knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say, and he was taking a sick pleasure in it.

" **Shows what you know.** Mum told me she took sexual advantage of a witch in school, and got her involved with You-Know-Who."

Hermione took a deep breath, furious at the homophobia that was learned and passed down by what she thought was a tolerant Pureblood family.

"My wife didn't put a wand to Odette's head and make her take the mark, Ronald!" Ron's eyes bugged out in shock as he took it in.

"You...  _Knew._ All this time, you already knew it?! How are you okay with her doing that to others?" He looked at his friend like she was the enemy, and it hurt her to realize how deep the prejudice went.

"Doing what, exactly? Did your mother tell you that Narcissa and Odette were actually dating back in Hogwarts, or did she leave that out?"

Ron scoffed at that. "Dating is how _we blokes_ figure out if we want to marry a woman; so two witches can't actually date each other. Besides, she was arranged to marry Lucius years before that."

_Merlin, he really believes the tripe he's spouting._

"Ron, they were _romantically involved_ with each other, and not in any kind of evil way. She just _likes women_." Hermione waited as she imagined gears slowly turning in his head.

"But... well, she was still a Death Eater's wife." Ronald was grasping at straws now.

"And she hated it and was glad to see him dead. So **why** do you not like Narcissa!?" She had him proverbially pinned the the wall, her jaw clenching at the forced confrontation.

_Just say it, Ronald, whatever it is._

His face reddened, which never looked good with his ginger hair and freckles. 

" **BECAUSE SHE HAS YOU!** "

As the redhead looked away dejectedly, Hermione let out a long breath. She knew that this day would come, that he'd finally wise up and realize the tension between them.

_He's fancied you all this time, Granger, and you knew it. But he was too damn proud, or scared, or stubborn to admit it._

And as they exchanged knowing looks at each other, as the emotional damn was finally broken between the pair of them, Hermione understood two things about their budding relationship: he was too late, and that it wouldn't work in the long-term.

_Ron, however, was convincing himself that only he could be the perfect man for her._

"When you were getting tortured in Malfoy Manor... I lost it, Hermione. I knew I loved you; I have known for a long time now. I, uh, should have realized it when you went with Krum to the Yule Ball. But then I met Lavender Brown and she was easy to talk to, didn't make me feel inferior... and I knew she fancied me, so one thing lead to another."

Hermione kept her mouth closed so as to not interrupt and  _make Ronald feel inferior..._  

"I can chalk it all up to bad timing, but after Lav and I were done, you were smiling about it and I was pretty certain you were waiting for me to ask you out. But I had cold feet, because of the coming war and all. When Harry dumped Ginny, I was was livid at first, but I also understood why he did that. So I swore to myself that I'd tell you my feelings once the war was over and we both survived it."

Ron took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"Then we got caught and were at Malfoy Manor. I heard you screaming in pain, and Bellatrix was cackling, and I knew I had been going about this all wrong; I waited too long. Then Dobby came and rescued us, and as we ran up the stairs to rescue you, everything was going okay for once, but we lost you again. **I** lost you again."

Hermione licked her lips as she took a beat.

_Don't blow this, Granger._

"I was your friend then, and I'm still your friend now. That hasn't changed. What _has_ changed is that I now have a family to protect and care for. They need me, and I swore I wouldn't abandon them to The Dark Lord, and I'm not about to just drop them now."

Hermione stunned herself as the words poured forth. She really did think of them as her family now, and that she wouldn't abandon them.

Ron's eyes looked hurt and watery, tears threatening to fall.

"The Malfoys _are your family now?_ Why would you say that?"

"Because Narcissa is my wife; I don't just feel compelled to stand by her side to defend her and Draco... I know what they did in the war, and shouldn't have to stand trial for Lucius' crimes."

Ron shook his head, dismissing her point with a gesture.

"Not that. You called You-Know-Who 'The Dark Lord', like the Death Eaters do."

Hermione thought back and realized that she had been saying it that way.

"It's become a habit, I guess. Just kinda picked it up from them."

Ron's eyes betrayed a deeper worry that unsettled the Golden Girl.

"You were there for less than a week. You've changed, 'Mione, like they... they _corrupted your mind._ You need to get checked out at St Mungo's."

Hermione bit her tongue at that. After all that they have been through together, her best friend thought she was corrupted because she felt loyalty to her new family.

"Of _COURSE_ I've changed, Ronald! We've known each other for SEVEN YEARS, and I've saved your life so many times that don't you don't have the _right_ to claim I'm  _corrupted in the head_ because you and Harry aren't my **only priorities** now."

"-yeah, but you've killed-"

"-I killed people to save **YOUR** ass in Gringotts, and before all of this is over, I might have to leave a trail of broken and dead bodies in my wake to prove that the Grangers should **NOT** be challenged!" 

Hermione snapped out of her rant, realizing exactly how silent the Gryffindor Common Room became as every eye was locked fearfully onto her. Some of the younger students scrambled up the stairs to their rooms fearfully as a cold shiver went up her spine.

_They're all afraid of you now, Granger_ , she thought to herself,  _thereby proving Ronald's point._

Hermione didn't like feeling this way, as her fingers were brushing the handle to the Elder Wand in her sleeve as everyone left in Gryffindor Tower began walking away and muttering to themselves. She wanted to forget that this happened, that Ron loved and was afraid of her.

_Obliviate._

Hermione blinked a few times, struggling to understand why everyone was staring at me in shock while Ronald was crying.

She was about to step forward to her friend and ask what was wrong, but he flinched at her touch and and ran upstairs, slamming the door behind him. Fleur entered the Common Room, approaching her with a pleasant smile.

"You ready for Paris, Hermione?" Fleur asked, dressed quite fashionably as always, despite being in her Veela form. "Think you can glamour me so the muggles won't be scared?"

Hermione turned and nodded to her, the pair leaving the tower.

* * *

  **DRACO**

Draco lead Harry through the back door of L'Enchanteur, and the Slytherin felt like he was back in the Leaky Cauldron. It was something he had picked up during the war, the way to sense ‘background magic’.

"Draco, are we allowed to _just Apparate_ into France? Don't they have customs and immigration to go through?" Harry asked, his eyes sharp on the French wizards who all seemed to be staring at him now.

"Not at all. A while back, there was this talk of a Unionized Europe, so it kept our various Ministries on friendly terms for easy travel and commerce. Going to the Americas, anywhere in Africa, and some parts of Asia can be right difficult. Australia's right out, of course." Draco said off-handedly.

"Why Australia?" Harry shot back, partly curious but also concerned for Hermione's parents.

"Before we had Azkaban, the Wizards and the Muggles shipped off their prisoners to the furthest, most remote island we could find. After a generation of that happening, they took offense to it and rebelled."

"How did that go?" Harry was regretting his inattentiveness in History of Magic, now that it would be important in his job as an Auror.

"Exactly how you'd expect when you deport all of your worst and most hardened criminals and leave them to rot on a giant island you think is uninhabitable. When the Hit Wizards came to break the rebellion, they were surprised to come up against trained, armed regiments. Wizards and Muggles working hand-in-hand had picked up a few new tricks, and had absolutely no Statute of Secrecy to hinder them. Even now, it's very tough for any outside magical community to have access there." Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as Draco sat them down at the bar.

The bartender came to them and Draco began to order a drink.

"It's not even noon, Malfoy."

"So just a _single_ Glenlivet on the rocks." The blonde deadpanned.

The bartender chuckled at the interaction. "I don't want to get your boyfriend mad. How about some iced tea?"

Draco sputtered at that as Harry guffawed at it.

"I'm not... um, Harry here isn't..." Draco muttered quickly, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He knew the symbol on the window, the triquetra knot, but the rainbow flag that was hanging?

“No wonder mother brought me through this way-station for Paris all the time when it was just us…” he muttered aloud.

"Ah, you two are just here for the parade, then? Should pass by here in a few hours." The bartender said, and Harry grinned, deciding to mess with Draco. Throwing an arm around the blonde, Harry snuggled in close and flashed him a flirty smirk.

"Oh come on, sweetie, you know how much I _love_ a parade." Harry said, his lips almost touching the other man's cheek. He didn't miss Draco's instant blush.

"He's not my boyfriend. And I'll have the Glenlivet." Draco chirped back, pressing his lips thin in frustration.

"We're no longer in London; you can quit pretending we're just friends." Harry ordered a beer for himself. "Alright Draco, might I ask a question?" Draco was completely lost at why Harry was teasing him this way.

_Is the bloody Boy who Lived Again actually trying to flirt with me, or is he just being cruel about this?_ Draco wondered if Harry knew about his crush on him, running through every recent interaction they had.

Draco nodded, "As long as I can ask one as well." The bartender returned with the draft beer and Harry enjoyed a sip of the amber ale.

"Ron warned me that you and Ginny had seen a lot of each other lately, and he thinks you're... trying to make a play for her." Harry said it with unusual neutrality. Draco's response was to bust out into raucous laughter. It shocked the people around them for a second, but they ignored the outburst soon after.

"Do you have any idea how thick that sounds?!" The blonde took a deep gasp of air, but was still shaking with his laughter. A tear rolled down his cheek. "You're asking me, in a _gay bar_ no less, if I'm going after your lioness."

Harry looked at him and started to join in on the laughter. "Okay, yeah. I know I can trust her. And I can get why you two became friends last year. I guess… I'm saying that I trust you, too. Ron doesn’t, apparently."

_Harry Bloody Potter trusts me?_ Draco thought, shooting him an affable smile.

"Well, she's absolutely beautiful mate, but no. I'm not interested in… well," Draco's eyes flicked to Harry's, then back to his drink, "Yeah. How come nobody has tried for me?"

The abrupt subject change confused Harry for a moment.

"I, uh, guess because you look straight?"

Draco shook his head, dismissing the Auror's answer.

"No, not that. I meant Proudfoot and his insane plan. If the magical community has been turned into secret, programmable assassins, how come I'm still alive?"

"Oh, that. You've been lucky, you haven't left Hogwarts?" Harry shrugged at this question, he had not expected it in the least.

"Slytherin Lesson for you: Begin by assuming the worst-case scenario is true. You'll live longer."

"So you're not on the list. Maybe Bedlam didn't see you as a threat."

"I feel insulted by that, but… the question is who did he see as one? Has anyone _actually spoken_ to Proudfoot?"

"No, we just guess he's out hunting Death Eaters like Severus is."

"So, what you're telling me is that he doesn't have to report in, and has _carte blanche_ to use Unforgivables to turn the wizarding populace into hit-men? If I were evil, know what I'd do?"

Harry help up one finger as he took a long swig of his beer. Draco wasn’t sure Harry can hold his beer. _I ought to pump him for information right now..._

"Make a long monologue while stroking a snowy-white cat on your lap, using one of those muggle swivel-y chairs?"

Draco rolled his eyes as his jaw set, unamused. "Turn an Auror."

That got Harry's attention.

"Are you mental? Aurors can't be turned." Draco looked at Harry incredulously.

"Don't be so naive. I'd do _almost anything_ if my loved ones were threatened. Look what my mother did for me and Hermione. Besides, I heard whispers of a program. Something called 'The Unmarked', to spy on Death Eaters to see who isn’t loyal enough."

"What kind of program calls itself that?"

"The secret kind!" Draco scratched at his Dark Mark. “Buggering itch, go away… point is, there could be bad guys hiding in plain sight, just like what Proudfoot is doing now."

Harry gulped. "So they wouldn't even know that they are..."

"That's not my worst case scenario, either. Proudfoot’s sleeper cells are waiting for the right moment, when something or someone triggers them, when the target seems to be at their most vulnerable or alone." Harry shook his head, not wanting to believe it.

"That's just… No. The war's over." Draco finished his drink in one gulp.

"Not for them. And not for the Unmarked." 

* * *

**PANSY**

Thanatos' first mission was luckily recon, something she could do easily with her familiar as she was still recovering from her injuries. She had been keeping track of her fellow Slytherins who were in hiding to avoid their families, thereby avoiding being forced to take The Mark and fight in a war that they didn't believe in, so adding a few more targets was no big deal.

The Wizards that had been put in charge of Gringott's under The Dark Lord's orders had mostly been executed during his Purge, but there were two who survived as it was their day off, and were still going into and out of the bank on a daily basis as the Goblins worked around the clock to repair the damage from Harry's escape with the dragon. She marked it as odd in her report to Kingsley, seeing as Goblins had opposed any Wizard oversight to their institution.

As she sent Fawkes off to deliver the message (under a glamour charm) she made plans to tail the pair of Wizards home and interrogate them with Veritaserum when alone. Her magical core was nearly 100%, but the Occlumency shields she had perfected before had to be adjusted to make room for the bit of Severus that was now a part of her. It was a background noise that she needed to filter out, but also be able to open and communicate with as if another person in her head.

_If only I could use this to mentally message Severus_ , she thought dryly.

_'Sorry, I'm just an echo of him... just like he has an echo of you.'_

Pansy jerked her head, worried that others could hear the voice before remembering that it was all in her head.

_So while I have an entire catalog of Potioneering at my fingertips, Headmaster Snape has a teenage Slytherin in his head._

She felt the voice scoff at that.

_'You gave him more than you know, Pansy. While he may have taught you spycraft for the Wizarding World, you developed your own style by forcing yourself to live in the Muggle World and how to kill using Muggle technology. Turning an omni-ocular into a scope on your wand so you could be a sniper was sheer genius.'_

A knock on her bedroom door broke the conversation as she composed herself and flicked her wand, opening the door a crack.

"Pansy?" Harper began, "Millicent is here to see you."

Pansy breathed a sigh of relief, she hadn't heard from Millie since Christmas.

"Yeah, let her in." She got up from her desk, turning to see her reflection in the mirror by her dresser. She'd been sleeping 10 hours a day since she got back, and she finally started looking more like her pre-war self.

Millicent Bulstrode, however, looked much worse for the wear.

"Hey Pans, can we, uh... speak freely?" She asked, closing the bedroom door behind her. 

Pansy raised her anti-eavesdropping charms and nodded.

"Of course, what's going on?"

"I uh- just got back and saw my family home. It's been seized by the Ministry."

She nodded knowingly.

"That's why Daniel and I moved out here to Whitechapel." She knew that her mother was safe from the Ministry, but her fellow Pureblooded Slytherins like Harper and Flint were considered guilty by association.

"Yeah, but you two are lucky, neither of you are directly related to Death Eaters."

Pansy looked at her friend questioningly. 

"Who?"

"Theo."

Pansy nodded, showing a slip of concern despite clearly remembering how she sniped the elder Nott at the Battle of Hogwarts.

"How is Theodore?"

Millie pressed her lips, trying to compose herself before answering.

"Distraught yet relieved that an albatross has been removed from around his neck. He feels bad that he doesn't feel bad."

"Feels bad that he doesn't..." Pansy took a long breath at that.  _Not everyone can be as detached as you._ "What can I do to help?"

"Now that the Headmaster is dead, we need... guidance. Not softies like Slughorn, either. How are we supposed to deal with this upheaval, now that it's going to be a crime to be a Pure-blood?"

"Oh come on, the Ministry won't make it illegal to-"

"-Kingsley is the Acting Minister, he was part of Dumbledore's Order."

Pansy's gasped in realization. 

"And Tiberius Ogden is the Chief Mugwump." Ogden was notoriously vindictive against Slytherins and Pureblood fanatics, despite being a Pureblood himself.

"Things are about to get really bad for us, Pans. First Professor Snape kills Dumbledore, then You-Know-Who took over... they are going to want blood. Our blood."

"He was under orders by Dumbledore to kill him."

"You think they will give a damn? Slytherin's snake, we need a damn Slytherin ally in the Ministry other than That Toad."

Pansy thought about it, choosing her words carefully.

"Some news is about to drop, and uh, I can't divulge it, but... go to Hogwarts and help with the repairs. Buy yourself some goodwill."

Millie shirked at that.

"That's  _House-Elf work,_ Pans."

She nodded in agreement to placate her friend. 

"Trust me? They only understand direct actions and are oblivious to the behind the scenes stuff we do. Just... think like a Ravenclaw and work like a Hufflepuff. Being un-Sytherin is the most Slytherin thing we can do."

As Parkinson said that, a flash of images went through her mind.

_Flying over Gringott's, the remaining two Wizard Guards were leaving for lunch with a Goblin apparently leading them._

_The image changed again, moving and swooping down to perch on a building in front of a cafe to get a better look at the Goblin._

_The Goblin reached forward to open the door, his hands looking more like bramble and knots of wood than flesh._

Pansy snapped out of it, surprised at being able to see through her familiar's eyes.

_Well that's new..._

_'That was Hodrod the Horny-Handed, the only Goblin that was in Azkaban for staging an insurrection on the Ministry. He must have escaped during the mass breakout."_

She thanked the soul shard of Sev in her head for that detail, getting more suspicious about the Goblins.

Millicent, however, looked at her friend with sympathy.

"I forgot that you're still recovering, I shouldn't be bothering you-"

"-no, it's okay. Go to Hogwarts, please. Draco's there helping catalogue the dead and contacting family, and he's been treated decently."

Her friend shrugged at that. 

"Okay, if they are seemingly okay with that prat walking around with a Dark Mark, then it can't be that bad."

"Well the Slytherin jobs are to supposedly teach us a lesson. Keep your chin up, okay? And take Theo; we need to build alliances by eating a little crow."

As Millicent thanked her friend and left, Pansy was urgently writing a letter to her Mentor to inform him of Hodrod's appearance. She had no idea what the Goblins were up to, but it was quite unusual to have two Wizards still working with them in the bank. 

 


End file.
